Stream of Consciousness
by JMD-009
Summary: A collection of ficlets and miscellaneous works centring around Xander.
1. General One Eye

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: I have no idea where the idea for this drabble came from but I  
figured I'd share. Enjoy.

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**(BtVS/Terminator: tSCC)**

**General One-Eye**

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John Connor did his best to hide his shock.

As they came through the door his ever-cynical uncle straightened his back and John saw his hand twitch as Derek fought down a salute.

Now one could reasonably think this reaction to be caused by him. John was the future saviour of humanity who Derek had served under before traveling to the past after all.

Even his mother could justify such action. Her determination and drive, her very presence, demanded respect.

But no, it was neither of them who caused such a strange response from his uncle. It was the man who followed them in that did it.

The tall, one-eyed man had saved him and his mother when a pair of Terminators had surprised them in a Wal-Mart parking lot of all places. John had no idea what that axe he used to decapitate that first Terminator was made of but he sure as hell wanted one.

The three of them had piled into the truck to escape as the second Terminator rounded on them with a pair of machine pistols.

When the man started cursing under his breath about running into more killer robots, obviously answers were wanted all around.

For several long minutes silence reign. Then John's female Terminator protector stepped forward.

"Hello General Harris," Cameron said before the cyborg crushed her lips on the surprised one-eyed man's.

John's jaw dropped.


	2. Dragon Slayer

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: To be honest I forgot about this little drabble. I wrote it  
after finishing the novel 'Ender's Game' a few months back. I highly  
recommend it, by the way, it's a great read.

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**(BtVS/Ender's Game)**

**Dragon Slayer**

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"What has captured your interest so brother?" the woman asked as she appeared next to a viewing pool. It wasn't teleportation exactly; more like one moment she wasn't there and the next she simply was.

If the man was surprised by her sudden appearance he didn't show it. "A child."

"What could be so interesting about a single mortal child?" She asked as she peered into the pool. An image played on the waters. A newborn baby boy being placed into his mother's arms for the first time.

"Look closer."

Curious the woman fixed her gaze upon the boy and concentrated. In an instant she saw his past, present, and future. From the moment of conception to his death she saw it all. For the first time in millennia her eyes widened with surprise. "How could we not have foreseen this?"

Finally the man turned from the pool. "You know as well as I that an occasional mortal slips through the grasp of destiny."

"But to influence so many important players…"

"Unprecedented but still possible."

"In nearly every possible future he affects them."

"Yes, it is troublesome." The man agreed.

"Our plans-"

The man interrupted. "Everything shall still be as divined."

The woman turned her gaze to the man. She was used to knowing everything, but even she didn't know how this could be true. This not knowing was troublesome. "How?"

"Sometimes you do not go around obstacles. You remove them."

"We cannot kill the child." She told the man pointedly. "That is an edict we cannot break. Not even to pressure the threads of fate."

The man shook his head in response. "We can, however, remove the boy. Simply sending him away from our spiral of reality should suffice."

"Would this not upset our brother and sister governing that reality?"

The man shrugged. "Who cares? At least the child will no longer be our problem."

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_-Ten years Later-_

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"Ender is succeeding beyond expectation."

"Yes. No matter how much we stack the deck against him he keeps winning the games."

"We still need to push him farther."

"How? We've pretty much broken every rule already."

"… That boy he befriended when he was a launchie."

"Alexander?"

"A stubborn boy that one. The more we try to isolate Ender the more determined Alexander is to befriend him."

"Yes, he's a defender by nature. Doesn't much care when it happens to himself but when he perceives someone else as mistreated he feels compelled to do something."

"I suppose in that respect he lives up to his name. Defender of man."

"I honestly don't see where you're going with this.""

"Promote him."

"He's already a toon leader -- You want me to make him a commander?"

"The boy scores almost as high as Ender, on the unofficial tests at least, and has a habit of thinking outside the box. Sometimes in a seemingly idiotic and random manner, but effective nonetheless. He may be the only one of the kids who can give Ender a real challenge."

"As much as I agree with you on that there are no armies with commander slots available. We made sure we had an unused army with Dragon for when Ender was ready for the next step. There aren't any more left."

"So make a new army."

"Can we do that?"

"What's one more rule."

"True. What should we call it?"

"Hmmm… I got it. Slayer."

"Dragon Slayer? I didn't know you had a sense of humour."

"Shut up and give Harris the 'good' news."


	3. Beyond the Grave

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: I wrote this a few years ago after watching the anime 'Gungrave'. I was blown away by the amazing story of friendship and betrayal. Unfortunately I didn't get past the prologue, though I had the story plotted out right through. There are no plans to finish it at the moment, but who knows, one day I may get inspired to take it farther. Most likely the next time I pull my 'Gungrave' DVD's out.

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**(BtVS/Gungrave)**

**Beyond the Grave**

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The man sat in the darkness of his converted semi trailer. The only light coming from the glow of the computer screen in front of him. The back portion of the trailer the man was in was a rather impressive laboratory considering the size constraints. He scowled at the readouts before him and ran a hand through greying hair.

Time had not been kind to this man. Not yet pushing fifty and very little of his natural hair colour remained and he had wrinkles and lines on his face that made him look over a decade older than he was. He supposed it could have been worse. At least he still _had_ his hair.

"It has to work," he told himself, a hint of desperation in his tired voice. "We're down to the end. There is nothing else left to try."

He heard a knock come from the door leading to the living area of the trailer. Although 'living area' may be too generous a term for a small kitchenette and a pair of cots.

Without waiting for an answer the door was opened and a teenage girl limped into the room using the wall for support. "Did you say something Uncle Andrew?"

"Just an old fool talking to himself dear." Andrew noticed the girl try to hide a grimace as she moved. "Are you in pain Mika?"

She shook her head no stubbornly but Andrew stood anyways. Procuring some pain medication and a bottle of water from a cabinet he handed them to her. "Here this will help. It will make you a little sleepy though, so you should get some rest while you can."

"But Uncle Andrew!" she protested.

"Humour me. Please."

With a resigned sigh Mika took them and headed to the door. She stopped just before closing it. "Goodnight Uncle Andrew."

"Sweet dreams Mika."

Andrew sat back in his chair and stared blankly ahead just thinking. On past sins and how hard it is to do what is right. On those he called enemy and those he called friend. On how much easier things seemed back when he was Mika's age. What a fool he had been.

When the sounds of soft snoring reached his ears he stood and made his way to the back of the trailer. He stopped in front of a metal chair melded right into the floor. On it was a muscular man, naked as the day he was born surrounded by bags of blood and chemicals being fed into his body by tubes. A man that wasn't breathing.

"I'm sorry to do this to you Xander," Andrew said with a sigh. "Desperate times and all that.

"They need to be stopped, the Council that is. They cannot be allowed to continue in this perversion of its vision! The things they've done. The lives that have been lost…"

Andrew swallowed a lump and looked up with shining eyes. "They're all gone. There are no heroes left Xander. And we need heroes again. I know you never considered yourself one but that is exactly what you are. To me, to _her_, to your slayers.

"I wish there was another way than this. I truly do. Over a decade I've searched and planned and schemed. Over a decade those searches came up empty and those plans and schemes failed. I'm getting old and even in my youth I could not have fought them. Now I'm down to disturbing the rest of someone who can fight them. Someone who has a chance to put things right again!"

He paused to look the body before him in its unblinking eyes. Andrew voice hitched and he was openly shedding tears.

"I hope you found some measure of the peace that you couldn't find in life in your final reward. You were a good man and deserved that happiness more than most. It pains me to take you away from that but there is nobody else. You are our last hope.

"Maybe you're with Anya again up there. Maybe you're with _her_." He paused as the corner of his mouth twitched upwards in a rueful smile. "Yah… I like to think that you ended up together…"

The smile was quickly wiped from his face. The memory of happier times chased away by the reality of what he was doing.

"God forgive me for this," Andrew cried as he sank to the floor. "Because I don't think you will!"


	4. Dream in Fire

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: One of my all time favourite games is Breath of Fire II for  
the SNES. A little nostalgia prompted this ficlet.

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**(BtVS/Breath of Fire II)**

**Dream in Fire**

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The light given off by the candle his companion was carrying did little to light their way. The young boy felt, more than saw, his way through the cave.

"Did you see that?" the other boy asked nervously. As he turned the candle he held revealed that he was literally a dog-faced boy.

He was about to reply in the negative when he saw something shift at the edge of their light. Curious he moved forward.

"What are you doing Xan?" the dog boy asked. The other boy, Xan apparently, moved forward.

"Check it out Bow," Xan said as he placed his hands on the object in front of him. "It's not a rock. It feels like a shell."

Despite himself Bow found his own curiosity getting the best of him. "You're ri—Hey!" Bow exclaimed as the shell shifted beneath the boys' hands.

Before either boy could react the shell struck out and Bow flew into the darkness. The candle fell illuminating several shells connected like armoured carapace with spiked fins extending from the end shell. Above Xan, well out of reach of the candle's light, three eyes glowed red with hate.

Xan stood his ground.

"Are you saying that you are the one?" the monsters taunted. "Are you saying that you are the child for the mission? Alright then, prove it to me!"

With a quickness that belied its size the monster struck. Xan screamed in agony as he was impaled on the spiked fin and lifted clear off the ground.

"Go ahead Xan," it spoke like it didn't have the boy hanging on his tail. "Let me see you open the gate Destined Child, and that is when you will know the strength of God!"

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Xander woke with a start; his hand instinctively grasped the pendent around his neck. The cool dragon shaped metal comforted him as his thumb ran across the deep blue tear shaped stone in its centre.

It wasn't the first time he had this dream. Or variations of it. Sometimes it went beyond that point.

There would be fear and flames.

And then, in his head he would hear a woman's voice, kinder and gentler than he ever heard from Jessica Harris.

"You must live," she would tell him and he could feel the worry and love coming from her. "You must be safe. Safe and far away from here. Grow. Live. Be strong. And more than anything else remember I will always love you."

As the warm light consumed him Xander believed her.

After a minute or so Xander got his heart back under control, gave a frustrated sigh and threw the covers off. He stood and headed down the hall. If he was up he figured he may as well have a shower and start the day. As he stripped the shirt and boxers he slept in Xander absently traced the light scar on his abdomen.


	5. Metal Born Protector

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: Just another Terminator drabble.

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**(BtVS/Terminator: tSCC)**

**Metal Born Protector**

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Sarah Connor had to resist the urge to reach out and touch the teenager currently asleep on her couch as she checked on him for the umpteenth time that night; like she was afraid she would walk into the room and he wouldn't be there.

She had good reason to think that way though. That very thing happened only a few nights prior.

One would think that this teenage boy she showed such concern, if only in the shadows of the night, was her son John Connor, future saviour of mankind.

One would be wrong.

The boy had been around for weeks now. Whenever they were in trouble he would show up and pull their asses out of the fire. Then, as quickly as he appeared, the boy would vanish.

Eventually, after Derek came up with a 'brilliant' plan using her as bait in a fake ambush, they were able to draw the boy out, catch him and get some answers.

Nobody was prepared for what they heard.

The boy was created by Skynet but he wasn't a machine. He was a genetically engineered human Skynet created to study human behaviour in a controlled environment.

As advanced an artificial intelligence as Skynet was it was still a machine, still a thing of logic and function. Human beings are anything but logical.

It grew the boy in a lab and fed lifetime after lifetime through his mind, using television of all things as a bases for the images. With each lifetime that raced through his unknowing mind his physical body matured.

Skynet didn't just want to study the human mind; it wanted to study a specific human mind. General John Connor.

It couldn't get John's DNA, not at the time it started the experiment, so it did the next best thing. It dug up her body and used hers. Apparently her reputation preceded her.

Skynet then took some DNA from a particularly rebellious human male in one of its camps. Sarah had to wonder whether it was coincidence or fate that it chose Kyle Reese to father her second son.

The son part was as far as the boy had gotten in his first visit before the denial and accusations started, more from Derek and Cameron than anyone else. Her own were more token than serious concerns though. She always prided herself on her instincts and Sarah's instincts were telling her the boy was telling the truth.

It wasn't long until tempers rose too high and the boy stood, grabbed a syringe from the med kit and jabbed it into his arm.

He threw the blood filled syringe at them and told them to "Confirm it yourselves!"

Then he was gone faster than any human had a right to be, though Cameron had confirmed he was indeed human. An advanced human, whatever that means.

In the end they took the boy's advice. After 'borrowing' some time with lab equipment they did confirm it. Several times. With multiple family members.

A few days later the teenager appeared on their doorstep. There was a long awkward silence in their living room. It was Derek who broke it.

"What I don't get is why Skynet would make its own John Connor."

It was a reasonable question and the teenage boy deflected it quite well. She still didn't know whether he just wasn't ready to talk about it or simply didn't know the answer.

"You know what I really don't get," he had said. "Why would it name me Alexander?"

Sarah had taken pity on Derek at his blank look. "It means protector of man."

The boy nodded. "That seem odd to anyone else."

In the end not much got settled that night. As the night wore on into early morning they all decided to get some rest and go through things with a clear head. It was at Sarah's insistence that Alexander stayed on the couch.

Sarah didn't care how Alexander came to exist, he was here now. From that first time he appeared to them and saved her life by tackling her out of a T-888's line of fire she had felt it. An indefinable something that spoke of a connection.

A soft moan from the couch brought Sarah out of her thoughts. She saw Alexander's brow crease as his breathing grew heavier and he shifted restlessly.

Quietly Sarah knelt by the couch and brushed her hand through his hair like she used to do for John when he had a nightmare as a child. It was only moments later that his breathing settled and Alexander slipped into a deeper sleep. With the utmost care Sarah pulled the blanket down from the back of the couch and draped it over the sleeping boy.

No, she didn't care where he came from. She was just happy to have both her boys under the same roof. And may God have mercy on anyone who tried to take either of them away from her; she wouldn't.


	6. Calm, Still, and Dangerous

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: A little drabble that came to me when reading some old issues  
of Witchblade. Expect another Witchblade crossover from me early in  
the new year.

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**(BtVS/Witchblade)**

**Calm, Still, and Dangerous**

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Originally Xander had planned to go out for Halloween as a soldier. Nothing fancy, just some old fatigues he found in a trunk at home with maybe a toy gun and some dog tags from that new costume shop 'Ethan's' that just opened. Cheap and easy.

As he browsed the aisles of the shop Xander changed his mind. The costumes all seemed to be good quality, nice material and very realistic, much better than some ratty old fatigues he found. They were surprisingly well priced too. Everything was fifty to seventy-five percent off as part of the grand opening sale.

Shortly after entering the store Buffy and Willow went off somewhere, leaving him to his own devices. So Xander wandered aimlessly through the shop looking for something that caught his interest. It wasn't until he got to the superhero section that a thought came to him.

Well two really, but he banished the thought of Buffy in conforming spandex quickly. That was just miles of bad road, especially when he could see her and Willow fawning over some noblewoman dress straight out of Deadboy's time.

The other thought was of a comic book he had been reading recently. Oh, the character definitely wasn't a hero but he was certainly badass. A human being, albeit one with a supernatural connection of some sort, who could catch bullets and cleave cars in half with his sword. He was Xander's favourite character in the book, though the sexy, often half naked, heroine and title character may have been a draw too.

And the character didn't wear spandex, which was a plus. Xander may like the thought of Buffy in it, but he had no desire to wear the material himself.

They didn't have a specific costume for him, but Xander figured he could put something together easily enough. The black pants, shirt and boots he had at home. He saw some realistic and kickass looking katana in the prop section. Now he just needed a coat and wig.

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Willow ran towards the tall man standing calm and still in the middle of the street. He had long dark hair and wore a long black coat with ornate gold trim over all black clothes. A sheathed katana was held in his hand as he surveyed the chaos on the streets.

"Xander!" she called out as she approached the man. "Something weird is going on! All the kids are turning into their costumes! We have to find Buffy!"

"My name is not Xander." Willow did a double take at the British accent coming from her best friend's lips.

One of the small, former child, demons chose that moment to lunge. He avoided it with a simple sidestep and batted the second lunging demon aside with his sheath. With a fluid motion he spun and took the first down with vicious roundhouse.

"It's Ian Nottingham."


	7. Apprenticeship

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: I just got the game Star Wars The Force Unleashed for my PS3  
and got inspired to write a little ficlet.

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**(BtVS/Star Wars)**

**Apprenticeship**

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Eight-year-old Xander Harris sat on the curb outside his house. He winced every time a yell was loud enough to reach the street or the sound of something breaking reverberated through the air.

He didn't know that in any other town a disturbance like this would have been reported already and the police would have come. Even in other parts of Sunnydale someone would have called after the first hour. That's not to say nobody would call; just not until night had fallen and the noise was keeping them up. By then the police wouldn't be coming to a domestic disturbance after dark anyway. He didn't know that either.

All Xander knew was that he wished Willow and Jessie's families hadn't left town for summer vacation. Then he could have hid over at one of their houses.

"Hello there," a woman's voice said. When Xander looked up he saw a pretty lady smiling kindly down at him. "Mind if I sit here?"

Xander just shrugged and the woman took that as an invitation. As she sat Xander felt her eyes on his arm. Self-consciously he pulled his bunched up sleeve down to cover the hand shaped bruise growing on his forearm.

"My name is Hallie. What's yours?"

He hesitated for a moment before he said anything. "Xander."

She smiled at him again. "Do they do this a lot Xander?"

Xander nodded at her with his eyes downcast. He determinedly held back his tears. Dad had always told him that crying was for girls.

"Sometimes do you just wish they'd go away?"

Again Xander nodded.

"Do you ever wish something bad would happen to them?"

This time Xander looked at her and shook his head.

"No?" Hallie asked, just managing to catch her surprise. "Why not?"

"Because they're still my Mom and Dad," Xander said simply, the first words beyond his name he had spoken since she sat down. "I just want to make them stop hurting me."

He thought back to the movie he had watched at Jessie's just before the other boy had left on holidays. "I could be like Darth Vader. Nobody would mess with Darth Vader.

"Yah," the boy said, getting more into the idea. "I wish Darth Vader could teach me how to make them stop."

"Sure, what the hell," Hallie said absently while blinking at the boy's odd wish. Then she shook her head and her face changed to her demonic form, all veiny and scabby and nasty. "I mean, GRANTED!"

Then the world around him changed and Xander was no longer by the street outside his house. He looked around and saw he was in a house built with a lot of wooden planks. It almost looked like it was the inside of a tree.

Before he had a chance to really look around the door opened and Xander hid behind some crates as a robed man walked in, explosions could be heard in the distance. The man walked around the room, apparently searching for something, before coming to a stop in front of the crates.

"Come out," a man's voice called.

Knowing he was found out Xander cautiously stuck his head out. "It's all right," the man encouraged. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Finally Xander came out and stood before the man, eyes on his feet and body tensed as he prepared for the worst. Instead the man knelt in front of him and spoke gently, "My name is Kento."

"X-Xander," he stuttered. He could hear the blasts getting closer.

"What are you doing here Xander?" Kento asked. "This is no place for a child."

"I don't know where I am!" Xander exclaimed suddenly. Tears streamed down his face. His father would be upset, but Xander was too scared to care. "I made a wish, and then the ugly lady said 'granted' and then I was here."

Kento listened patiently as the boy seemed to babble at hyper speed; all the while the blasts kept getting closer and closer.

"Xander. I need you to be brave for me, okay?" Slowly the boy wiped his tears and nodded. "I need you to hide behind those crates again and stay there until I come and get you. Go. Now."

As Kento reached the door he turned back. "Everything will be alright Xander. I promise." Then he was gone.

Xander sat behind the crates as far into the corner as he could get. He hugged his knees as the sounds of a fierce battle made their way inside. Then there was an explosion; so close that it shook the house he was in.

Suddenly, after a few more minutes everything went quite. For a second Xander thought it was all over. Then the door exploded inward and Kento's body bounced across the floor. Looking through a gap in the crates Xander's eyes widened as he saw someone he recognized in the hole.

With purposeful stride non other than Darth Vader himself strode into the house. With a flick of his arm he had Kento off the floor and pinned against the wall using the Force. Kento gagged as Vader applies pressure to his throat.

"I sense someone far more powerful nearby," Vader told the captive Jedi. "Where is your master?"

"The dark side has clouded your mind. You killed my master years ago."

"Then you shall share his fate." Vader raised his lightsaber to strike the Jedi down when it was suddenly pulled from his grasp. He turned just in time to see it fly into the outstretched hand of a wide-eyed Xander, now standing beside the crates.

"A son." Vader stated, some surprise in his voice.

"Run!" Kento implored Xander only to have his throat crushed with a casual gesture from Vader. A uniformed man and some Stormtroopers entered through the massive hole where the door used to be before his body even hit the ground.

"Lord Vader?" The officer asked before seeing Xander holding a lightsaber. He signalled to the Stormtroopers who took aim at the boy.

Xander clenched his eyes shut as he saw the fingers start to pull the triggers. He heard the shots at the same moment he felt the lightsaber pulled from his grasp. Then things got very quiet.

When he opened his eyes Xander saw the officer and all the Stormtroopers on the ground and Vader standing over him with a red lightsaber in hand.

"Come with me," Darth Vader told him. "More will be here soon."


	8. FEAR Itself

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: A little ficlet that crawled into my brain based on the video  
game F.E.A.R. First Encounter Assault Recon.

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**(BtVS/F.E.A.R.)**

**F.E.A.R. Itself**

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The blonde man walked into the bar with a confident stride. He strode straight to a table in the corner, ignoring the look he received from the other patrons. He sat down without waiting for permission from the dark haired man half slumped on the table resting his head on his forearms.

"What do you want Riley?" the man asked as he raised his head and sat up, the movement allowing the other man to see the eye patch covering his left eye.

"You can be a difficult man to track down, you know that Xander?" Riley sidestepped the question. "You have any idea how much of Africa I've been across tracking you?"

"How inconvenient. I weep for you."

"How's Council life treating you, Xan?"

"Oh, you know. Find a few Slayers, kill a few demons, fun's had by all."

Riley shook his head. "I'm serious Xander. You look like shit."

"I feel the love. You come all this way to insult me?"

"I came all this way to offer you a job."

Xander blinked at the man for several seconds before responding slowly, "Riley, I have a job."

"Really?" Riley grinned. "How're you liking it."

Xander's back straightened and his face went blank. "I do worthwhile work."

"Never said you didn't, but do you like it?" Riley didn't give him a chance to say anything before he went on. "There's a virtual army of Slayers now; we need people to keep the Maggie Walsh's of the world in line."

"What?" Xander asked confused.

"After the Initiative the government stayed in the demon fighting game, only without the questionable methods and staffed with people who actually had a clue. You already know my wife and I used to be a part of it." Xander nodded. "Well sometimes demons aren't the only thing that needs fighting."

Riley paused to make sure he had Xander's full attention. "Awhile back the government created a special task force called 'First Encounter Assault Recon'. The unit defends against threats of a paranormal and supernatural nature."

"Like, what I do, say, now."

"Not exactly," Riley told him. "While we do go after the occasional demon, like I said, there's another group dedicated to that now. We'll help out when someone comes across demons more organised and, shall we say, currently armed than what is normally encountered, but that's not are primary mandate."

"So what is?" Xander asked, a note of interest in his voice.

"Paranormal mostly. Psychics making with the death and mayhem for one. The idiots with science projects gone wrong for another. You'd be surprised how many are out there and how often things do go wrong. Then again, maybe _you_ wouldn't be."

Xander sighed and took a swig from his warm beer. "What does any of this have to do with me?"

"I would have thought it was obvious," Riley said. "I'm recruiting."

For a moment Xander just stared. Then he let out a full-bellied laugh. Long and loud.

"I'm serious Xan."

"I know," Xander said between bouts of laughter. "That's why it's so funny."

"After reading your file my superiors approved recruiting you in record time."

Finally Xander calmed down and waved to his patch. "They want an invalid?"

"Xander," Riley began slowly. "You lived your entire life on a Hellmouth, survived seven years of actively fighting demons with no training to speak of, and are making quite the interesting reputation for yourself across Africa. You are many things, but not an invalid. Our combat trainer can't wait to get his hands on you."

Xander looked down and was quiet for several long minutes. When he finally looked up he grabbed his glass and downed the rest of his beer. He set the empty glass back down, looked Riley in the eyes and grinned. "Where do I sign up?"

Riley grinned back. "Welcome to F.E.A.R. Xander."


	9. FEAR Nothing

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: A follow-up to my previous ficlet 'F.E.A.R. Itself'.  
Notes2: Just a warning. Massive spoilers for the game.

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**(BtVS/F.E.A.R.)**

**F.E.A.R. Nothing**

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F.E.A.R. point man Xander Harris ran through the warehouses above the Origin facility as fast as he could, taking apart the ghostly manifestations of Alma's anger and pain as he went. They were ridiculously easy to take down compared to the Replicas; the clone soldiers that were being controlled by Paxton Fettel.

The Replicas were left lifeless drones after Xander put a bullet through Paxton's skull. His body lay next Alice Wade, his final victim.

Xander felt pity for the woman. She had gone off on her own to find her father only to die so close to her goal. He had allowed himself only a moment of guilt over not making it in time to save her before pushing it down. Her father still had a chance.

Or, at least that's what Xander had though until he made it down the hall to find Harlan Wade opening the containment chamber holding Alma.

Dieing hadn't slowed her any. Her hate had conquered even death. When he watched Harlan Wade's violent and bloody end, a part of Xander couldn't really blame her.

Harlan Wade was the chief scientist on Project Origin. He was there when Alma was discovered to be psychic and taken from her home at age eight. He was there to deliver her first child age fifteen when not even the chemically induced coma was able to completely restrain her.

Xander winced at the thought of the child as he jumped over some debris. The baby was the prototype for the psychic commander Alma's second child, Paxton Fettel, became. For whatever reason the prototype failed and Xander didn't want to think about what these monsters would do to a baby they saw only as a failed experiment.

When he saw a light coming through the double doors up ahead, Xander sighed in relief. He may make the evac helicopter before the underground complex made a very big boom after all. With that thought in mind he didn't even slow down as he hit the doors.

It was only after he was on the other side that he ground to a halt.

Gone were the dirty, rundown warehouses. In there place was a sterile and pristine hospital room. A fifteen-year-old Alma was restrain in the centre of the room with doctors surrounding her.

"Give me back my baby!" she screamed as one of the doctors turned and Xander saw a younger Harlan Wade holding a newborn in his arms; eyeing it with clinical detachment. "Let me hold my baby!"

Harlan ignored her as he walked away with the newborn, straight past Xander. As he turned to follow the man Xander's gaze fell on a table next to the door. A file lay on it with the name 'Alma Wade' in large bold letters. Xander glared at the man as he walked down the blindingly white corridor.

"Cold hearted bastard," he muttered darkly.

When he turned back to the room the teenaged Alma and the doctors were gone. In there place stood a little girl in a red dress, her face pale and gaunt, her eyes sunken and dark. A twisted version of Alma at eight years old.

"I know who you are," she whispered as the room began to fade. "My baby."

Then she was gone and Xander found himself outside. He felt the ground shake and saw fire and debris rise from the earth several blocks away. As the shockwave lifted him off the ground and propelled him backwards Xander's mind replayed something he had heard from a recording of Harlan Wade.

_It is the way of men to make monsters… it is the nature of monsters to destroy their makers._


	10. Teenage DiNozzo

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: Thanks to JediKnight for the last line when he found out I was  
planning a NCIS ficlet.

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**(BtVS/NCIS)**

**Teenage DiNozzo  
**

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"What do you got Abbs?" Gibbs asked as he walked into the lab.

Abby jumped at the sound of his voice. She quickly grabbed the Caf-Pow out of his hand and told him, "I need to put a bell on you!"

He waited for Abby to tell him why she called him down. Instead he watched as she played with the straw in her drink, bit her lip, and wouldn't meet his eyes. This was some odd behaviour from the forensic scientist.

"Well?" he prompted.

"It's not my fault," she blurted out suddenly. "Well, it is in the sense that I did the tests, but I wasn't looking for this! I ran it three times, just to be sure I got it right, 'cause I wanted to be really, really sure in case you weren't. And I know you don't like talking about personal stuff, but you should have told us and…"

Abby trailed off when Gibbs gave her a look. Not 'The Look' because Abby never got that one, but an effective look nonetheless.

"What's this about Abby?"

She responded by grabbing his arm and dragging him over to the large plasma screen on the wall. A move nobody else could have gotten away with.

"This," Abby said pointing at the screen. Gibbs followed her hand and wasn't surprised to see a large file photo of the kid they had in interrogation. What did surprise him was the big red classified next to it.

"Harris has a classified file."

It wasn't a question, but Abby nodded anyway. "That's the bad news. The good news is that it is his DNA on the blade of the knife."

"That corroborates his story so far," Gibbs said, looking closely at Abby. "What aren't you telling me?"

"When I ran his DNA I got two matches. The full on one brought up big red there," Abby told him with a gesture towards the screen. "The other…" she trailed off again.

Gibbs finished for her. "He has a family member in the database."

"Yah, a father," Abby started reluctantly and a few keystrokes later another file appeared on the screen. "One Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

Gibbs' eyes actually widened in shock. His mind went to the young man upstairs in the blinding Hawaiian shirt and armed with a seemingly never-ending supply of wisecracks. He spoke before his brain caught up with him.

"I have a teenage DiNozzo for a son?!"


	11. Now That's Creepy

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: A follow-up to my previous ficlet 'Teenage DiNozzo', though  
could still be read as a stand-alone.

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**(BtVS/NCIS)**

**Now That's Creepy**

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Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had a wide grin on his face as he stealthily picked the lock on the modest well kept home. It was all he could do to surpass a chuckle; that would spoil the game.

Sneaking in and scaring the newest team member, even the temporary ones, was a tradition of his. He'd done it to McGee and now it was this man's turn. Okay, sure, he hadn't been suicidal enough to try it on Ziva and, as boss at the time, it wouldn't have been appropriate to do it to Agent Lee, that was besides the point. He was doing it now.

The lock gave with a soft click and Tony's grin widened even more. Casually he walked into the house and closed the door behind him. Tony took a moment to admire the home theatre set-up before listening intently for his prey.

A soft noise below him sent Tony to the stairs at the back of the house. He went down them silently, more out of habit then any conscious effort on his part. He stopped dead in his tracks from the hand axe that imbedded itself deep in the wall less than an inch from his nose.

"Something you need Tony?" a voice asked from the other side of the basement

"A change of underwear would be a start," Tony rasped with a hand to his chest as he tried to will his heart to a normal pace. In retrospect, sneaking up on Mini-Gibbs probably wasn't his most inspired idea ever.

After a couple of deep breaths Tony went down the rest of the stairs and turned towards the other man, taking in the basement as he did. "Wow, now this is creepy," he muttered to himself as he saw the array of workbenches, hand tools, and wood spread about.

The other man gave no indication of hearing him and instead gestured to the patch over his left eye. "You're just lucky my depth perception is shot."

"No kidding," Tony muttered as the man turned back to the wooden cabinet he was working on.

"Tony," the man started as he ran the sandpaper over, what looked to Tony at least, perfectly smooth wood. "Not that it's not nice to have you break into my house, but what do you want."

"Got a new case," Tony told him simply as he went to sit in a nearby chair.

"The ritual killings," he said knowingly before he turned back to Tony and his eye widened. "Tony, don't-"

The warning came too late. As soon as Tony sat down the chair fell apart, landing him unceremoniously on the cold concrete.

"Sit in that chair. It's not done and barely screwed finger tight," the man finished, laughing unapologetically.

"Funny man Xander," Tony said from the ground as he accepted the hand up.

Xander just grinned. "The case?"

The grin seemed to be infectious and soon Tony had one sporting his own face. The two of them were a lot alike, especially when they first met, though Tony could see a little more of his father in the young man every day. He wasn't the only one to notice the mixture of personalities either. Abby would sometimes jokingly call him Alexander Gibbs-DiNozzo instead of Xander Harris.

"Right, that Finn guy from your agency loaned you too us. Said you would have special insights into the case. Whatever that means."

"He did, did he?" Just then Xander's cell rang and he rolled his remaining eye when he answered it. "Riley. Yah, Tony's here now. I'm on my way."

Xander flipped the phone shut and headed for the stairs. "C'mon, let's go. I wonder what Dad would say if I wore my new Hawaiian shirt to the crime scene?"

Tony grinned at the mental picture as he followed the younger man up the stairs. His grin was quickly gone as he paused and took one last look around Xander's basement. "Still creepy," he decided before heading out.


	12. Burning Dolls

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: I've been watching Dollhouse since it premiered a few weeks  
back. Not great, but entertaining with potential. This idea has been  
begging to be written since I watched the second episode. It only  
took a week for me to actually break down and write it.

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**(BtVS/Dollhouse)**

**Burning Dolls**

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It was on our honeymoon, of all times, when we were 'recruited' by these people. We hadn't even checked into the hotel before we were tranquilized and taken; strapped down in those damned chairs to be brain-wiped.

Or at least she was. I was restrained in the next room waiting my turn and causing as much damage as I could with my limbs bound and coming out from under sedative.

I've never heard Faith scream like that.

When they brought her out she was a different person. There was no fire in the eyes of this woman. She was calm and sedate, almost in a daze. An 'innocent' and malleable mind. Someone they could control.

And she didn't know me.

I fought harder, but only caused more damage to my own body than anything else.

Then I was strapped into the chair and all I knew was pain.

Then I knew nothing and Xander Harris was no more.

The man who came out of that room they called Alpha. Strangely fitting, all things considered.

Their technology never took into account possessions, let alone someone who had been possessed as many times as I had.

With every implanted personality and every wipe the remnants grew stronger. It normally wouldn't have been a problem. The leftovers from my possessions were so weak I never even noticed them before; few people would. A persons natural instincts should be able to suppress them with no problem.

Unless, of course, your mind, memories, and instincts are screwed with on a virtual daily basis.

Inevitably, the hyena Alpha broke free in a fit of confusion and rage. It killed with the soldier's military precision as it made its way through the Dollhouse. As it killed those around her a lingering feeling breaking through the confusion caused it to spare the Echo that was once Faith. An instinct that told it this one was pack.

It escaped, powerful instincts driving it towards freedom and it would not be denied. The Hyena had been caged for far too long and sought its freedom at any cost. It was only later, when it began to remember, that the Hyena felt the loss of its mate.

That's when the remaining aspects began to merge. They all had similar goals they could agree on after all.

I am Alpha, who wants to burn The Dollhouse to the ground for all they have done.

I am Soldier, who seeks to complete the mission and free those held without their knowledge.

I am Hyena, who wants to protect its pack and save its mate.

I am Xander Harris, who just wants his wife back.

God help anyone who gets in our way.


	13. Heroes' Heir

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: Got the idea for this after coming across Action Comics 761. In it  
Superman and Wonder Woman end up in Asgard and fight in a war there for a  
thousand years before being sent back to the moment they left. Throughout the  
story Superman strictly adheres to his no killing rule and is pining for Lois  
even a millennium after she would have died.

A thousand years of bloody war against demonic creatures without killing?  
Unlikely, but it's Superman so I'll go with it. A thousand years living like a  
celibate monk refusing to move on after Lois while fighting an attraction to  
Wonder Woman? Don't get me wrong, I like Lois and Clark together, but I'd like  
to think Superman would have the inner strength to eventually move beyond  
tremendous loss and find some form of happiness.

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**(BtVS/Superman/Wonder Woman)**

**Heroes' Heir**

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There was no blinding flash of light, no thunderous crack, no fanfare at all to mark the departure of the two heroes that would be sung of in the halls of Asgard for ages to come. They were simply there one moment and gone the next.

A smile came unbidden to Thor's face as he remembered the poetry of motion and skill displayed by the Amazon, and the strength and compassion found in the Kryptonian.

A thousand years of war against some of Asgard's most terrible enemies had changed them little. It had hardened them some certainly, but they never once lost themselves in the bloodshed. Thor could honestly say he liked and respected the heroes.

It made what he had just done all the greater a burden to bear.

"Father?" Magni questioned as he came to stand at Thor's side.

"I had a vision as Odin brought me back to life," Thor said as he turned to his son. "A great Crisis befell Midgard long ago. Sometime after Kal-El and Lady Diana joined us here. A Crisis that would have repercussions through all realms of time and space. Even Asgard would not be spared. Given enough time the devastation would reach all the Godly realms."

"As grave as such a matter may be father, that was not my question," Magni told him, gesturing to the infant sleeping soundly in Thor's massive arms.

Thor smiled down at the baby and adjusted its blanket as he answered his son. "They had to return to the moment they left just as they were, that much I saw with certainty. Their memories changed to those in which they did not find comfort and happiness in each other's arms. To that which a vow never to take even a demonic life was never broken. To that which the choice to return was their own. To fulfill their necessary task it must be as if they never made the journey to Asgard."

"And their son? Shall he be raised as one of us?"

"No," Thor said simply. "He shall be sent to Midgard like his parents."

"What?" Magni exclaimed, clearly shocked by this decision. "The boy is the child of two of Midgard's most powerful warriors. Such inherent power, even in infancy, would easily be traced by those who would use such power for their own ends."

"His power shall be bound and the Hellmouth shall cover any lingering trace."

"Hellmouth?!" Magni spat outraged. "You sentence the boy to death father!"

"Nay," Thor countered while smirking at his son. "For this child has a destiny as well."

With all the fanfare that was missing from his parents, the infant boy was surrounded in a blinding light and, with a thunderous crack, was gone.

Thor closed his eyes and spoke softly. "I bid thee to grow strong and brave young Alexander, Protector of Man."


	14. A Night in the Suburbs

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: I just finished reading 'Small Favors' and couldn't resist doing a little  
'Dresden Files' ficlet.

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**(BtVS/Dresden Files)**

**A Night in the Suburbs**

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"Okay, that's something you don't see everyday," Xander said as he stared out the window of his beat up truck. An honest to God dragon was running through the street snapping at the open air.

What a dragon was doing in a Chicago suburb, Xander had no idea. He didn't care either, when he saw the beast rear its head back and let loose a gout of flame.

The fireball hit a car parked at the curb; the explosion sent it careening through the air until it landed only inches from someone's living room window. Xander barely noticed.

His attention was on the young woman who appeared from nowhere and hit the pavement rolling, apparently thrown by the force of the blast. She was struggling to her knees with one arm while holding her other arm close to her chest as the dragon focused on her.

Xander's foot had slammed down the gas pedal before he realized he acted. The dragon roared in pain as the truck crashed into it, but Xander didn't have time to pat himself on the back. The beast's tail swung around and his truck was thrown end over end down the street.

The world went blurry for a long moment and his whole body ached, but Xander forced himself to focus and reached for the bag tucked behind the seats. He grabbed a few items before kicking the remains of the windshield off and climbing out.

He almost gave a small grin when he saw the dragon favouring one of its hind legs. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to have slowed the beast much. It had already turned back to the blonde woman. She was on her feet now, stumbling away though she didn't seem like she was in any shape to run from a dragon.

The dragon bared its teeth and roared in triumph at having cornered its prey. It seemed moments away from snapping her up. That just wouldn't do at all.

Xander's pistol barked loudly as he calmly walked towards the dragon. He knew the bullets wouldn't hurt it; they would be as annoying as a mosquito bite at best. That wasn't their job.

The dragon turned back towards Xander. It rose to its full height, wings spread menacingly, and roared at the interloper.

Xander roared back.

Then he threw a pair of small objects straight in the dragon's open mouth and ran. Xander tackled the woman to the ground and placed his body between her and the dragon just as an explosion rang out and bits of flesh and blood rained down on them and the ground rumbled as something heavy hit the ground.

The woman opened her eyes and looked to the side to see half a dragon lay on the ground, the street and nearby house covered in blood and things best not thought about. She looked up at Xander in shock for a long moment before her face broke out in a wicked grin. "Is it just me or did the Earth move?"

Xander laughed and helped her up, careful of her injured arm. "They never expect the grenades," he told her and offered his hand. "Xander Harris."

She smiled at him as she introduced herself. "Molly Carpenter."

They stared at each other smiling for several long moments before the spell was broken by the sound of sirens in the distance.

Xander surveyed the chaos around the street and sighed. "I wonder how the authorities are going to explain this one?"


	15. Brave New World

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: A little ficlet that came to me when I was reading the DC mini 'Salvation  
Run'.

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**(BtVS/DCU)**

**Brave New World**

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This has not been my greatest day ever. Hell, it hasn't even been my greatest month ever. The hits just keep on coming day after day after day.

I knew the government considered the 'Slayer Army' terrorists, and I knew, as one of the New Watcher's Council's leaders, I was high on their watch list. I even knew they would try something against us someday, or at least a faction would.

This, well this I never saw coming.

Still haven't figured out how they knew I was in Cleveland; teleportation doesn't exactly stamp a passport. I guess it doesn't really matter in the end. We did our job.

The demons were dead, the world was saved, the warehouse was… in need of a good scrubbing but nobody told me those demons exploded! Still, the important thing is that my girls are safe.

I was the only one left in the warehouse when the Suicide Squad showed up. Even if they saw anything my Slayers know better than to interfere. Not as unprepared and worn out from battle as they were. Better to get reinforcements and do the whole magical tracking thing.

Not that it was likely doing them any good.

Checkmate was just shipping criminals they deemed 'too dangerous' off to some distant planet with little more than the clothes on our backs. No trial, no due process, no lawyer, no rights. And once we got where we were going; no fast food, no television, no bathrooms, no signs of civilization at all. An untouched world we were just left to survive on.

They let me keep my axe though, so at least that's something. Of course, they also said the world was safe too. They lied. What a shocker.

It wasn't long until the monsters came, sometimes alone but more often than not in packs. Fortunately, I have some experience with monsters.

The super-villains around me fought well, if not together, but it was clear most weren't used to fighting monsters, heroes, yes, but not monsters.

Still, most managed to survive and band together. Not out of any real desire to do so, but for the simple drive to survive. They say there's 'safety in numbers' for a reason. That doesn't mean everything goes smoothly. That would be too easy.

With a group like this it's only natural that ego comes into play, tempers flare, and paranoia abounds. I don't belong here and some of them sense that. I dissuade that notion by being the biggest badass that I can. The eye patch and bloodstained battle-axe help with the image.

I've never had the same clear cut, black and white view of things as Buffy. Humans are good; demons are evil. Soul equals good; no soul equals evil. I can't help but see the shades of grey in there too. A human with a soul can commit greater atrocities than a demon without one. Many of the people I'm trapped here with are case in point.

The things some of these people have done… well, I watch the news reports, read it in the papers, and even see the intelligence reports these days. I won't lose a single night's sleep. Buffy, bless her soul, couldn't take a human life and I respect that. Hell, I admire that in her. I'm not Buffy though. I'll do what I have to do to survive.

Apparently not everyone here has great survival instincts though.

A crowd has gathered around that psychic guy who 'cleverly' calls himself Psimon. He's going on and on about making a life here and building the perfect society. Nobodies really buying it, but we have nothing better to do so let's gawk at the moron.

I watch as anyone with half an ounce of self-preservation takes a few steps away from the female villains when Psimon gets to the part about essentially using them as breeding stock. You'd think a super smart, telepathic guy would know better. After all, if there is one thing I've learned it's that the female of the species is by far the most dangerous.

It was probably better for Psimon that Joker chose that moment to hop onto the boulder he was using as a makeshift stage and proceeds to bludgeon his partially exposed brain with a rock. Less painful than if the ladies had got a hold of him.

Joker smashes the rock into Psimon's face long after the point of death, raving the entire time.

Lose the idiots, losers, dreamers, wishful thinkers, and happy huggers. They'll only drag us down.

People are actually starting to cheer him on and I cringe. Let's put the completely insane guy in charge, 'cause that will work out sooooo well.

Finally, Joker stands and turns to face us; whatever colour the rock he's holding started out as it's red now. "Any questions?"

There is no cheering now and everyone just kinda looks at him in silence. A wet splat breaks the silence and Joker stumbles. He looks down with wide eyes at the axe firmly embedded in his chest. "That's just not funny. Not funny at all."

It is almost comical though, the way he falls on his back virtually straight as a board.

I calmly jump up onto the boulder and retch my axe free before turning back to the crowd. "I hate clowns," I growl at them.

More than a few of them raise their hands up and back away. Others nod a grudging respect my direction. I ignore both as I hop down.

Without a word of protest the worst villains the world has to offer part as I walk by.


	16. The Ninjando

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: I hammered this out quickly about a month ago after seeing a trailer for  
the upcoming GIJoe movie online. Although not based on any specific version, I  
had the original Marvel comics in mind when I wrote it.

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**(BtVS/GIJoe)**

**The Ninjando**

****

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Knowing what he did about Sunnydale's nightlife Xander was beginning to think that cutting through one of the town's many graveyards on his way to the Bronze, unarmed and at night, was perhaps not his brightest moment. If Buffy or Willow asked later he would tell them – well, if there was a later he had no intention of letting them find out, so it was moot. The trio of vampires that surrounded him, however, were not.

"Perfect," a dark haired vampire in racing leathers exclaimed menacingly. "I love delivery."

Xander rolled his eyes, just barely containing his snort at the overused line. The blonde vampire with the dog tags and khakis couldn't.

"Do you have to use that line every time Mark?"

"What?" came the confused reply.

He sighed and shook his head. "Never mind. Let's just eat."

"I think," an auburn haired beauty started as she sashayed her way past the other two. Xander felt his face go hot at the way she was licking her lips and eyeing him up and down like a piece of meat. "That you boys should take a walk while I – play – with this one."

"Delilah!" they yelled in unison.

"Ben! Mark!" she mocked back.

"I thought you were a one man vampire, Delilah!" Mark, the big leather clad vampire, actually whined. Delilah just snorted at him.

"Whatever!" Ben growled and pushed his way past them. "I'm just hungry."

He struck out with a hard right hook, intent to knock his dinner out with one punch. Unfortunately for Ben, his dinner turned into the blow and used his own momentum against him to put the vampire on the ground hard with a simple hip toss.

Xander had put the vampire down before he had even realise his body had moved. Things like that had been happening a lot lately. Ever since Halloween.

He knew the second-hand fatigues he wore had belonged to an Army Ranger, but other than that he had no idea about the man he had become during Ethan Rayne's spell. The fact that he hadn't said a word to anyone the whole night didn't help in that department either. All anyone could remember was that he kicked ass like it was going out of style. He had even dusted Spike.

Xander didn't remember anything about the guy either. Things like this would happen in the heat of the moment and he would toss a move out there, but he had no idea why. Maybe it was spell given muscle memory; maybe it was just his subconscious retaining some information.

Whatever it was, it comes and goes, and Xander soon found himself with his back against a crypt and three pissed off vampire advancing on him.

_God, I know we don't talk much but I could really use some help here! I'd do pretty much anything. I'd even give up Twinkies!_

As if answering him, a shadow detached itself and dropped from the crypt. There was only the barest glint of reflected moonlight and the whoosh of displaced air before three heads fell from three sets of shoulders and were dust before they reached the ground.

_Twinkies how I'll miss thee,_ Xander thought absently in his shock and took in his saviour.

The figure was covered head to toe in black, including a full-face mask, and looked like a cross between a ninja and a commando. The Ninjando, as Xander labelled him in his mind, sheathed his sword as he turned towards Xander. Somehow Xander felt like he was giving him an assessing gaze.

Then the Ninjando dropped into a fighting stance that seemed vaguely familiar to Xander and made 'come on' gesture with one had.

"You know," Xander said as he slid his way around to the edge of the crypt. "I'm good. Mom always said never to stop and get my ass handed to me by strangers. She never said anything about talking to them though. How about we talk this out over a cup of java? My treat!"

The Ninjando just made the gesture again.

"No, sorry, my doctor said fighting scary, sword wielding, ninja, commando guys was bad for my health!"

That was the last comment Xander got to make before he was too busy to talk. The Ninjando apparently decided that Xander had plenty of warning and attacked. After that it was all Xander could do to avoid being pummelled.

Parry, block, dodge, became his world. Roll with the blows, exhale when hit; his body moved on autopilot as the strikes rained down on him. Xander knew he couldn't keep it up. He never found the chance to go on the offensive and was tiring fast.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Xander realised that the black clad man was holding back, testing him more than actually trying to hurt him. It was at about the same moment a stinging blow sent him face down in the dirt.

It was a full minute before Xander was able to shake the cobwebs out. It was a second longer before he realized he wasn't being beaten on. Looking up Xander saw that the Ninjando was no longer in a fighting stance and was actually offering him a hand.

Hesitantly, Xander took the hand and was hoisted to his feet. Once he steadied himself Xander slapped away the hand and backed up. "What the hell man?!"

"Don't mind Snake Eyes," a voice said and Xander saw a beautiful redheaded woman walk to the man's side. "He's a man of few words."

"He's freaking nuts is what he is."

"He was only testing you."

"I don't do well on tests," Xander told her coolly after several calming breaths. "And you are?"

"Call me Scarlet," the woman introduced herself, and then a grin formed on her lips. "And you did well on this one."

For a moment Xander thought about running but dismissed it quickly. He wouldn't get far. The Ninjando was scary fast and the redhead held a wicked looking crossbow in her hands. "Alright, I'll bite. Why was he testing me?"

"To see if he should train you," Scarlet told him seriously. "Not long ago he spent a night in your shoes and decided to check in on you afterwards. He like what he saw."

Xander blinked. He hadn't expected that. "Ninjando over there wants to train me?"

"A little more than that actually." Scarlet looked him straight in the eyes and from the look she gave him Xander had the feeling she was about to say something that could, for better or worse, change his life. "Tell me something Xander, have you thought about what you're going to do when you turn eighteen?"


	17. Infected

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: I picked up the ps3 game Dark Sector in a bargain bin for $5 and, while it  
has its flaws, I enjoyed it enough to do a quick ficlet.

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**(BtVS/Dark Sector)**

**Infected**

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Xander didn't want to be here. He hadn't wanted to be here even before the monster pinned him to the floor with its bladed arm. The stupid thing was that he only had himself to blame. He volunteered for this mission.

Who else was he going to send to do it?

Back when they had first started to rebuild the Watchers Council he broached the subject nobody else wanted to. Human lives. He wasn't naive enough to think that they would never be in a situation where they would have to take a human life.

With demons it was usually black and white. Kill the demon – end of story. With humans it wasn't that simple. At least, it wasn't supposed to be.

Despite how little he agreed with how the Old Council did things, Xander felt the idea of an all human wet works team had merit. Provided it was handle the right way of course.

As dangerous as a human being can be rogue, the idea of a rogue Slayer disturbed him more; especially after Faith's brief tenure with the dark side. Most of these girls were barely teenagers. Killing the monster under your bed was one thing, but simply an evil man was another thing altogether.

That's why Xander sought out people with military training, people with experience dealing with other dangerous people. Not likely people who could hurl fireballs at them, but people nonetheless.

Riley had been his first call. It had taken more than a little convincing to get him to even consider heading the Council's wet works division, but eventually he conceded. Or compromised would probably be a better word. He wanted Xander to co-head it with him.

Between the two of them it went pretty smoothly getting an operation up and running. But that was nearly a decade ago now and years of living nightmares could take its toll on even the strongest spirit. Xander knew he had become a liability in the field; he couldn't take the constant death and violence anymore and took himself out of the fieldwork.

Then this mission came up.

Back in the late eighties there had been rumours of a deadly new virus in the Russian controlled Lasria. Nobody outside a select group of intelligence officers knew the whole truth and the incident had been covered up to the point it was like nothing had happened at all.

Now, decades later, the virus wasn't a rumour anymore. It also wasn't like anything that anyone had expected. There was nothing natural or even man made about this virus. Those it didn't kill outright it changed; it turned them into dangerous, violent monsters.

Suspecting supernatural involvement the Council knew they had to send someone and it couldn't be a Slayer. Nobody wanted to find out what would happen if this virus infected a Slayer.

So Riley sent Robert Mezner, a deadly soldier and brilliant scientist.

Also Xander's mentor.

Mezner had been one of their first recruits and the more experienced man had taken Xander under his wing. He trained him how to fight and think in battle and refused to accept any pretence of a lack of intelligence when speaking on science.

Back then Xander had no idea just how dangerous Mezner really was. He knew better now.

Mezner went rogue. He manipulated the Lasrian military into following him even as he allowed the number of infected to grow. The true secret of the virus was in a hidden vault beneath the city. Mezner had always been an ambitious man and he wanted the power the virus represented and would let an entire city die to get it.

Nobody knew Mezner like Xander did. People tended to think of Mezner as either a scientist or a soldier, not both, and both could be equally dangerous.

Things had been going well too. Right up until he ran into the monster with the metallic like carapace and bladed arm. Not to mention the energy shield that could send rocket propelled grenades back to sender. That part sucked.

"What did they tell you?" he heard Mezner ask as the man knelt beside his prone and pinned form. "What did they tell you, Xander?"

Xander figured he'd go with the truth. It wasn't an important question and it didn't seem like the time for sarcasm either. "That you had gone insane."

"Ahh, but people say the same about you don't they?" Mezner asked as he stood and looked down at Xander with an almost amused expression. "Unstable, psychotic, unfit for duty and yet they still sent you. In spite of the fact that you are so… broken."

He let Mezner talk and even hoped he would keep going. It would give him more time. The blade pinning him to the floor was through his right shoulder, so it was with his left hand that he slowly pulled the concealed pistol from behind his back. The weapon didn't even make it up and inch before the monster stomped on his wrist.

"But I can fix you," Mezner continued as if nothing had happened and turned to the monster. "Do it."

The blade pulsed and Xander screamed as pain burned through his entire body. Distantly he knew Mezner was still speaking, but it seemed like a world away and the pain was right here.

"You know of the lotus? Prized as a rare beauty. It blooms amidst filth and decay. Of course you die in the process. But I think you, of all people, deserve it."

"Maybe I do," Xander gritted out as the pain subsided slightly. It took a great deal of effort, but he managed to move his right arm just enough to grab something out of his pocket. When he held up the detonator Mezner's eyes widened. Xander just grinned as he hit the button and set off the C4 he had planted around the compound.

**0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0**

Xander groaned as consciousness came back to him. He had no idea how he had survived the blast, but when he opened his eyes he found himself outside a little ways from the flaming wreckage. Maybe the blast had thrown him? Or did someone else save him?

He shook his head. Those thoughts could wait. He had to get moving. Reinforcements would be here soon.

As he tried to push himself up Xander saw something that stopped him in his tracks. His right arm was covered in a metallic crust. A metallic crust that looked a lot like the monster's carapace.

"Dear God," Xander cursed softly as realization hit him. "I'm infected!"


	18. Son of Iron

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: I made a challenge along the lines of this ficlet on XanderZone awhile back, after  
watching the movie again I decided to answer it.

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**(BtVS/Iron Man [2008])**

**Son of Iron**

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The impossible had just happened. Not only had Pepper Pots managed to usher her boss into Stark Industries on time for a board meeting, but she actually got him there early. Naturally she was a little irritated when the balding, heavyset, middle-aged man in the cheap suit intercepted them in the lobby.

"I'm sorry, but if you need to speak with Mr. Stark you'll have to make an appointment."

"I've been rescheduled three times already this week!" the man said, somehow managing to match their rapid pace backwards while neither tripping or bumping into anything. "It's important!"

Pepper did feel for the man. When Tony got into a project he barely took time for little things like food or sleep, let alone keeping appointments. Still, she had barely managed to get him to go to the board meeting in the first place and it was important. The man would have to wait.

"I'm sorry, but we're on out way to a board of directors meeting. You'll have to reschedule with the office."

Happy smoothly positioned himself between them and the man, allowing her and Tony to make it to the private elevator that led directly to Tony's office. The doors had just slid open when the man all but yelled to them, "Jessica Megan Lavelle."

Outwardly Pepper didn't so much as raise an eyebrow. Inwardly she cursed. She'd had a pretty good idea who this man was: Andy Kendal, a small town lawyer who had been trying to get a hold of Tony for over a week now.

It was nothing new, there was always some lawyer trying to get a moment of Tony's time. Usually about one tryst or another coming back to haunt, looking for money or her fifteen minutes. More often than not it was both.

Pepper didn't recognize the name the name, but that didn't' mean anything. Tony went through women more often than most men changed socks. He didn't always remember their names that night, let alone the morning after. As much as she tried to keep track of anything that could come back and bite Tony it wasn't always realistic.

Given this, Pepper was surprised when Tony turned to the lawyer and gestured with his hands. "About yay tall, dark hair, big chest, mole on her left cheek?"

Andy looked at Tony puzzled as he came around Happy. "The rest fits, but I've never known her to have a mole on her face."

"I wasn't talking about her face."

"I wouldn't know, Sir." Andy coughed uncomfortably and Pepper thought, _welcome to my world._

"Ah Jessie," Tony went on, apparently oblivious to any discomfort he may have caused. "Beautiful, wild, kinky Jessie. I haven't seen her in twelve, thirteen years now. How's she doing these days?"

"She's dead," the lawyer told them bluntly enough to bring even Tony up short. Pepper had a feeling this wasn't going to be the usual 'get rich quick' lawyer visit.

"Oh, should I send flowers," Tony said, but Pepper could tell the words came out automatically, before his brain had a chance to register. Then, quicker than most people would notice, Tony was back in control and asked the obvious question. "How did it happen?"

"Her husband, one Anthony Harris, had apparently been physically and emotionally abusing her for years. A week ago Jessica's twelve years old son Alexander stepped between his stepfather and his mother. When Anthony took his anger out on the boy Jessica fought back. With an aluminium baseball bat."

"Good for her," Tony said.

Andy nodded. "Yes, but I'm afraid both Anthony and Jessica died from their injuries shortly thereafter."

"And the boy?" Pepper asked, a sinking feeling in her gut on the direction this was going. "What about Alexander?"

"Alexander fell into a coma and is at Sunnydale General. The doctors are optimistic."

"Sorry if this sounds crass," Tony started and from the brief glimpse of something that flashed in his eyes Pepper could tell his mind was working in the same direction as hers even if he hid it well. "I haven't spoken to Jessie, let alone seen her, in over a decade. What does this have to do with me?"

"It was Mrs. Harr—It was Jessica's wish that if anything happened to her custody of your son would go to you."

"My what?!" Tony still sounded shocked even though Pepper could tell he was expecting the answer.

For his part, Andy shifted uncomfortably and sent a genuinely apologetic look at her employer. "You didn't know? I'm sorry you had to find out like this. I assume you'll want to run the appropriate tests?"

Tony simply nodded but Pepper had seen the look on his face many times before. It was the same look he had when he was so heavily involved in one of his projects that his mind was too focused on its task to spare the time and energy for words.

"Here's my card." Andy held out the rectangular paper to Tony, but the man was still lost in his own head so Pepper took it for him. "Give me a call when you're ready and I'll arrange everything."

With that the lawyer left, throwing one last apologetic glance over his shoulder before disappearing outside. Tony didn't seem to notice him go, but Pepper knew that even preoccupied his mind took in every detail around him. Or, at least it did when he was working. This was a completely different situation so maybe he was just genuinely frozen in shock.

It was strange for her though, to see Tony like that. Just more proof that whoever this Jessica had been to him she most certainly wasn't one of his usual trysts. It also wasn't like one of the usual women coming back looking for a quick payday. If it was money she was after Jessica wouldn't have waited twelve years, let alone until after her death, to contact Tony.

No, Pepper had the feeling that she already knew what the paternity test would say.

Then Tony was back in the real world and, without a word, headed away from the elevator at a clipped pace. He didn't speak until they made it to the car and that was just to tell Happy to head for Sunnydale. When he finally turned to her his eyes were more serious than Pepper could remember seeing them.

"Pepper, make arrangements to get Alex transferred to a hospital out here as soon as we're told it's safe to. And have the maid prepare the guest room near mine for a visitor, just in case."


	19. The One Eyed Knight

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: Anthony Head's new show Merlin has recently started airing in my area and  
after seeing the first several episodes I couldn't help but do a quick ficlet.

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**(BtVS/Merlin [2008])**

**The One-Eyed Knight**

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Morgana sat on the edge of the bed, alone in her room having sent Gwen away for the day. Some would take one look at her and say she was sulking. She would have rather heated words to refute that. She did not sulk, and she certainly didn't pout.

No, Morgana, ward to King Uther Pendragon, was furious.

It angered her how easily Arthur had shrugged off her concerns about that Sophia girl. Granted, it's not like she could tell him that she saw Sophia kill him in a dream, but you would think that growing up together as they had and the two decades of friendship that came with it would buy her more trust than that. Instead she's accused of jealousy of all things!

As if she would even want the idiot, trouble-magnet, oaf of a prince!

No, despite what most of the court seemed to think, Arthur was the last person Morgana would wish to be courted by. She would even take his servant Merlin over him if she had too!

Not that there was anything wrong with Merlin. She has actually grown quite found of Gaius' nephew and felt a strange draw to him, particularly since her prophetic dreams started, that she couldn't quite explain. He was a becoming a friend and perhaps one day even a confidante, but nothing more.

Still, there was a part of her that couldn't get the image of Arthur fighting off the bandits attacking Sophia (though she suspects Merlin did more than simply watch) out of her head.

Morgana was an independent woman and was not afraid to voice her opinion to even the King if it came to it. She just couldn't understand those Ladies of the Court who always seemed to need a man to protect them and were there more for image than anything else. It's probably why she considers her servant Gwen to be her closest friend.

With a frustrated sigh she fell back to lay on her bed and closed her eyes, so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't even notice when one of the castles new maids entered her room.

But sometimes, just sometimes, there would be nights like tonight where Morgana would allow herself to indulge in romantic notions. Such notions like that it may be nice to have a handsome knight ride in and save her.

Then she would get angry with herself for thinking such things. Eventually the anger would fade and she would fall asleep with the image of her shining knight in her mind for a single night. Tonight, however, she spoke to herself in a sleep-hazed voice as she began to drift off. "It would be nice to have a white knight of my own. Yes, I wish I could have my own white knight."

"Granted!" a voice boomed through the room and startled Morgana back awake.

She opened her eyes just in time to see a portal of shimmering blue light appear above her bed before her view was blocked as something fell on her. It was tall, dark, and most definitely male and Morgana couldn't move her gaze from the warmth in his single brown orb.

"You said the 'W' word didn't you?"


	20. A Family Forged

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: A follow-up to 'Son of Iron' that also makes the timeline a bit more clear.

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**(BtVS/Iron Man [2008])**

**A Family Forged**

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Things had changed a great deal at the Stark mansion in the year that Xander had been living there. It was for the better as far as Pepper was concerned.

For one thing, she wasn't 'taking out the trash' more mornings than not anymore. At least Tony was swift enough to realize that a seemingly never-ending stream of women was not appropriate with a traumatized and impressionable boy in the house. And, if nothing else, it brought his dry cleaning bill down drastically.

For another, before now Tony had been, if not an alcoholic, than three drinks shy of being one. Day one of Xander living at the mansion Tony poured himself a glass of his favourite scotch after dinner, as he usually did on the rare occasions he actually had a sit down meal. Xander's nearly imperceptible wince at the action had worried her and, at the time, Pepper hadn't been sure if Tony had noticed or not. When she came in the next morning Pepper found the waste bin overflowing with bottles and suspicious rings staining the sink.

Giving up his two favourite vices did more to tell her how seriously he was taking his newfound fatherhood than any words on Tony's part ever could have.

That's not to say things have been easy. Back in those first days the young boy barely spoke. The most he probably said at one time was when Tony had called him Alexander and he hand informed them, in no uncertain terms, that his name was Xander. It was hard to imagine that the smiling and jovial teen they had now was the same person as the quiet and brooding preteen Tony had first taken in.

Doctor Samson, the child psychologist Tony found, did wonders in bringing Xander out of his shell, but that's not where Pepper would put most of the credit.

Tony was absolutely amazing with Xander. Which made sense really; Pepper had often thought Tony was a child trapped in a thirty-something's body. It certainly helped form an easy rapport with Xander.

Not that it was always a good thing, as the prank war that broke out between them a few months back proved. Pepper had put an end to that real fast when her brand new Jimmy Choo's were caught in the crossfire, thank you very much! Both had been suitably cowed, though Tony looked far too impressed at Pepper out-pranking them for her liking.

Of course, the two had the Pepper approved bonding time as well. It seemed a tradition of sorts had formed with the Stark men. Back when Tony was a boy he and his father would spend hours on end restoring one classic car or another. When his father had died they had been working on a 1932 Ford Flathead Roadster. Even after all these years Tony had never finished it, always finding some tweak that was needed. By the end of the first week he had Xander down in the workshop helping him with it.

In fact, the two spent a great deal of time together in the workshop, not just with the cars either. Tony loved showing off his latest and greatest to an awed Xander and then showing the boy how it worked. Granted many of the 'latest and greatest' were actually fairly simple things he knew would peak Xander's interest, but Xander ate it up just the same.

One thing both Pepper and Tony had noticed early on was that, despite the fact that he was a bright boy, Xander was convinced he was stupid. As such, he didn't even try in his schoolwork since most of it didn't even catch his interest anyways. It was slow going, but they were slowly getting him to try harder and to realize that just because someone told him he was stupid didn't actually make him stupid.

This made the workshop sessions a good thing. The poor boy didn't even realize he was learning, let alone learning science and engineering far beyond his grade level.

Of course, Rhodey helped too. Xander loved to hear the stories the Air Force Lieutenant Colonel had to tell, especially about anything that flew and how it worked. Things the MIT graduate was only too happy to share. In fact, Pepper had noticed that Rhodey was around a lot more since Xander arrived. It wouldn't be strange for her to find him down in the workshop with the boys at least a couple days a week.

Everyone seemed to take to Xander quickly. Obadiah doted on him with a grandfatherly affection, though it seemed to take Xander longer to warm up to the man than others. Then there was Stark Industries; well, the boy pretty much had all the assistants wrapped around his finger after the first visit.

And yes, Pepper was willing to admit that Xander had managed to worm his way into her heart as well. It hadn't taken much. That first day she saw him in the hospital hooked up to all those machines and tubes all she had wanted to do was take his pain away and protect him. If there was still any doubt in her mind, the moment she looked into his brown orbs she knew she was lost.

She wouldn't have it any other way.

It was still strange to find herself in this maternal role, partly by default though mostly by her own choice, but Pepper knew she loved Xander and that was all there was to it. God help anyone who tried to hurt him because she certainly wouldn't.

As the press quickly learned.

Tony had grown up with the eyes of the world on him. He didn't want that for Xander. He wanted him to have at least some semblance of a normal life mixed in with the fantastic. It was only natural then, when the press had latched on to the story of the illegitimate son of the great Tony Stark that he became fiercely protective.

Fortunately Pepper had managed to get the assault charges dropped.

She, herself, had a much more subtle way of dealing with the press. A few quick phone calls made it clear to everyone that anyone who crossed the line between reporting news and blatant disregard for privacy would be, along with their network, permanently blacklisted from all Stark Industries press functions.

Those who didn't back off, well, reputations were blackened everyday; she didn't necessarily have anything to do with it. Really.

After a year things on that front had died off a fair bit. It was old news now and, possibly more importantly, any threats that may or may not have been made are firmly understood to not be idle ones.

These days, while not completely healed, Xander was a happy and fun loving thirteen years old boy strongly attached to those around him. Tony and herself in particular. It's made for some separation anxiety over Tony's trip to Afghanistan in a few days. Xander convinced himself that something bad will happen if Tony goes and nothing they say can convince him otherwise.

In the end Pepper did the only thing she could think of to ease his fears a little. She moved in. She rarely went to her apartment anymore and most of her stuff was in one of the guest rooms now anyways.

For his part, Tony spent virtually every minute with Xander and planned to right up until he had to leave for his flight. These days they rarely left the workshop except to venture out for food and sleep.

Between the two of them they managed to get a smile on Xander's face again.

Pepper didn't know what the future had in store for this strange family she seemed to have found herself a part of, but she figure it was a bright one. Yesterday the boys announced the roadster was finished with identical grins on their faces.


	21. Watching and Seeing

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: Just a little idea I've had bouncing around in my head since I saw the movie 'Push'.

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**(BtVS/Push)**

**Watching and Seeing**

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Xander Harris had a secret; something he'd kept from everyone for years.

He drew.

It's rare that he didn't have at least a pen and paper in easy reach. There was always a nice set of pencils and a sketchpad hidden away somewhere in his home and car. Usually he had a little pocket notebook on him too, just in case. None of these lasted long.

Xander drew a lot.

He also sucked at it. His drawings tended to be an ugly, god-awful mess that even he has trouble deciphering when he was done. That didn't matter though. The important thing was getting the image out of his head before the migraine kicked in.

See, the scenes that Xander sketched had a tendency to actually happen.

He wasn't sure when he made the connection, but he was young. He'd been awed and so excited and he wanted to tell anyone who would listen. Then he drew his father's reaction and decided telling people was a bad idea.

It was in those first years that he came to an important realization: the future was not set in stone. The simple act of knowing the future could change fate. Not always, but sometimes.

Back then he didn't really see anything too important. Enough to keep Jesse and him away from the worst of the trouble. Once he saw his grade on a test, along with the teacher's red-penned corrections. He was accused of cheating when he aced it, although nobody could prove anything. Still, everything he foresaw in those days was fairly trivial.

It wasn't until he met Buffy Summers and learnt of the supernatural that his visions became nightmares. Death and chaos became the order of the day.

Ever since then he did his best to use his sight to help; a suggestion here, a nudge there, to try and put things on a better path than perhaps they had been on before. It didn't always work and he certainly did not see everything, but he did his best.

When they had first learnt of the Codex, a book of prophecy that supposedly had never been wrong, Xander was fascinated. Had it been written by someone like him? Was something like this going to be his legacy to the world?

Then he found out it predicted Buffy's death and firmly rejected the notion and went with what he knew. If you want it bad enough you can change any fate. Xander made it his mission in life to fight fate and forge his own path, for his friends as much as him.

He had considered telling the others many times over the years. Something always stopped him. Sometimes he would see the ripple effect of change, or at least the results as someone he cared about disappeared like a person being taken out of a photograph. Most of the time it was him.

In some futures he saw them reject him, usually when his secret just compounded on other things gong on at the moment. Other times he saw himself captured and tortured, because no matter what the intention was the more people who knew a secret the harder it was to keep. One of the reasons he hated Angelus so much was that he saw what the monster would put him through if it knew of his gift. Then there were the futures where he was just outright killed to take a powerful player out of the game.

So he kept silent, as much for himself as the others. Call him selfish but he enjoyed living. It was a little thing he had.

Over the years he had his ups and downs, but that was life whether you occasionally see the future or not. He helped out and played a role in saving the world on a regularly basis; usually in a round about way but it still counted.

There were still the bad moments though.

That thing with the false vision on his wedding day for example. Given that he had actually had real visions before he should really have seen it for what it was. And he did, eventually. Unfortunately he had let his fears and anxieties get to him and for a moment, one brief moment, he had thought it was real. It was enough to make him run.

It was something The First had loved to hold over him.

That was something he had never, and probably never would, tell the gang. The First had only appeared to them a handful of times throughout that whole mess. It had appeared to him on a virtual daily basis. His gift of foresight was no secret to it and The First had loved to taunt him at his inability to see it. Even Caleb had been protected, albeit to a lesser extent.

By the time he had seen what would happen in the obvious trap they had been too committed for him to stop it, but not enough so to keep him from changing it. He saw those girls die, and he saw how he could save them. He saw Caleb take his eye and he stepped up anyways. What else could he have done?

It wasn't until after the fall of Sunnydale that he finally found out for sure what he was. He was a Watcher, not the Council variety (not only anyway) but a type of psychic. There were other types too: movers, pushers, sniffers, porters, stitchers, phasers, and more. Apparently there were a lot of people born with psychic powers of one description or another. And organizations dedicated to finding them.

They came across one while rebuilding the Council; an American government sponsored agency known simply as The Division. They offered to use some of the psychics who worked for them to help track down Slayers for the Council and asked for very little in return. Division came to them with an offer of friendship and cooperation.

So why, as he watched Giles shake hands with Agent Carver, did Xander feel like they just made a deal with the devil?


	22. A History of Violence

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

* * *

Notes: I've always loved PC adventure games, from the days where you had to type things like 'walk to tree' and 'pick up rock' to the point and click murder mysterious of today. The Space Quest, King's Quest, and Police Quest games are still some of the most entertaining series I've played, in any genre.

I found 'Overclocked: A History of Violence', despite its flaws, to be an enjoyable story and was inspired enough to weave it into a Buffy fic staring Xander's dad of all people. Now, if only I could think up a good 'Still Life'/'Post Mortem' ficlet. Or a Space Quest one. Roger Wilco in Sunnydale would just be fun.

* * *

**_Warnings:_**_ If you plan on playing 'Overclocked: A History of Violence' or are playing and haven't finished yet, you may not want to read this. Despite the twisting I did to the story, it will still completely spoil things for you._

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**(BtVS/Overclocked)  
A History of Violence**

**

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**

Anthony Harris could only look on in shock as he watched the surveillance footage. A large part of him could only wonder who would do this to these kids, and why. The rest of him had a damn good idea of what the answers were, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it out loud.

Tony's work on memory reconstruction was well known and regarded in his field. So when five violent and armed, young adults were found bloodied and amnesiac in the same few New York blocks over a two day span it wasn't unusual that he would be called in to help out.

The five had been the last patients at the soon to be shut down Staten Island Psychiatric Hospital and when he saw them Tony couldn't help but think how none of them could be more than a year or two older than his son back in Sunnydale. He quickly pushed those thoughts aside and got to work.

Things quickly took a turn towards strange.

After the first couple of sessions it became obvious that these weren't just similar cases, they were related cases. All five had apparently been isolated together at some sort of abandoned military compound. Given the level of paranoia they shared and the increasingly violent confrontations, it was a miracle any of them had made it out.

If that wasn't enough, there was also someone out there who didn't want him to figure out what happed to these kids. The pair of men who bagged his head, handcuffed him, threw him off the pier, and shot at him were a rather large hint to that.

His colleagues were no help either. Dr. Young and the nurse, Tamara, were the only two left at the hospital when Tony arrived; attending to its last patients. Neither seemed to particularly like him. Dr. Young made it clear he disapproved of his methods, especially when he took the patients off their medication and asked that Tamara not enter their rooms when she did her rounds. One of his patients, the most likely to make a quick breakthrough, supposedly committed suicide that same night.

To make matters worse, his wife had sent divorce papers to his hotel room, which resulted in a rather violent outburst and several broken pieces of furniture. Needless to say, the hotel, not to mention the other guests, were hardly pleased with that or the screams that accompanied his frequent nightmares. That didn't matter anymore. After his credit cards stopped working and he couldn't pay the hotel kicked him out.

The altercation he had in the bar next door, goading a local thug into attacking him before disarming the man and waving his own gun back in his face, probably didn't help matters either.

Combine all that with the growing sense of paranoia and familiarity with the case and Tony felt like he was slowly losing his mind.

Fortunately it's not paranoia if they really are watching you. The detective on the case, Moretti, was able to dig up some disturbing information. The hospital didn't get its funding through normal means. Their funding came from the Department of Defence. He'd even managed to find the compound the kids had been at.

That had been only hours before Tony had found Moretti's body in a dumpster at the docks they were meeting at.

Things had just gone to a whole new level and Tony had to get to the bottom of things and fast. First he had to make sure those kids were safe. Unfortunately when he got to the hospital the kids were doped up to their eyeballs and he'd had to chase Dr. Young and Tamara away by pulling out his pilfered gun. He quickly set about counteracting the drugs in his patients' systems and sending them away.

The question had been what to do next. Its not like he could have gone to the authorities. At this point who would believe him? No, he needed evidence and he knew just where to get it.

Most of the equipment in the compound had been destroyed by the time he got there, but not all of it. He was able to find an intact, or at least salvageable, hard drive from one of the computers. Then he went to work on the surveillance tapes.

Eventually he found a tape of all five of them playing a shooter on the computer network upstairs and falling into a strange, trance like state. There were several key things about it that Tony recognized, but he could hardly believe. It almost looked like the simulator he had been working on back in his military days.

"Am I disturbing you?" a voice asked with a sarcastic edge and Tony spun around to see a man in an expensive looking suit walking towards him, right past the clear locked server case Tony had sabotaged earlier. "Nice to see you again Mr. Harris. Even if it is under somewhat deplorable circumstances."

It only took a moment for Tony recognized him from his frequent trips on the Staten Island ferry and from seeing him leave the hospital. He couldn't recall the man's name, just that he supposedly worked for some sort of pharmaceutical company.

"What are you doing here?" Tony asked, though he knew the answer. When the shady businessman shows up at the secret research facility it doesn't take a genius to put two and two together.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" the man asked with an arched eyebrow. The confident tone and posture on the smaller man was making Tony nervous. He had a feeling that even if he made it past this man, there were others in the supposedly abandoned compound now. "I have to admit, I'm impressed. You're both persistent and resilient. I never would have thought you would make it here. The water off the dock is fifty feet deep. For a poor swimmer with cuffed hands, that's usually deep enough."

"Who are you?"

"Not Mr. Clarke from Dwight Chemicals obviously," the man said pointedly, though it didn't really mean much to Tony; he hadn't remembered the man's name to begin with. "My name is Warren Zane. I'm a project leader for Psychlops Industries. As you can see we're working here on a few tests for a little piece of software. A further development of the simulators that you may well remember yourself."

"You're training young people to kill!" Tony spat, his temper briefly at the admission before he was able to reign it in. "Influencing them with supplemental messages."

If the man's notice his barely controlled anger it he didn't show it. "Exactly right Anthony. You have an excellent grasp of things. Have you figured the rest out yet?"

"You work for the Pentagon."

The man smiled a slimy sort of pleased smirk at him. "Yes, at least a faction of it. As I told you before, I work for one of the largest employers in the country."

"And the Pentagon is testing the effectiveness of the manipulation software here."

"Not only that, we are testing whether we can erase the memories of our test subjects. Dr. Young's chemical methods helped us immensely. However, as we now know, thanks to your work, we have to improve it further still," Zane paused and looked sharply at him. The gleam in his eyes sent a shiver down Tony's spine. "We don't just want killers Anthony, we want killers who can withstand interrogation. In today's unconventional wars, memories are a hindrance. He who remembers nothing tells nothing and regrets nothing."

"So your methods have failed then," Tony pointed out tersely, though a nervousness began to seep through his anger. Xander would probably look at a situation like this in a movie and say it was a bad thing when the villain starts explaining his whole plan and that they probably didn't expect the hero to be around long enough to use it against them. Tony was beginning to think that fiction might not be far off even as he continued. "My investigations at Staten Island are proof of that."

"Ahhh, Tony…" Zane said with a shake of his head. "I believe you really are quite movingly naïve. Your results are very interesting to us. Your work is going to help us improve Goliath. The next version will resist any psychiatric method. You can count on that. Why do you think we entrusted these cases to you in the first place?"

"So I'm part of your experiment?" Tony asked, genuinely surprised as much as to drag things out.

"Of course. You were already a part of the forerunner experiments," Zane told him, and that was all he needed to confirm his suspicions on his military work. "Have you never asked yourself where your aggressive outburst came from? Did you ever wonder why someone who, despite their topic of research, held such strong pacifistic beliefs as to not even defend himself in a fight, suddenly began to spiral into a rage so easily?" he didn't wait for Tony to answer and waved his hand airily. "Of course you have."

"You mean… my work on the simulator…"

"Yes, sorry about you're wife and son." And Tony thought he heard a note of remorse in the other man's voice, but he doubted it was genuine. "We couldn't have known our experiments would have such an unfortunate side effect on your family. However, we find ourselves at war, and, as you well know, in any war there are casualties." Tony barely heard the rest of the confession or the excuses, it was drowned out in the deepening of his breath and the grinding of his teeth as he felt the rage welling up in him. They did this to him, to his family. Made him a monster that would haunt his wife and son for years. They couldn't be allowed to get away with this.

"Which brings us to the… unfortunate part of our conversation," Zane told him, oblivious to Tony's thoughts as he pulled a handgun from his jacket and levelled it at his face. "I really am sorry, Tony, it's nothing personal."

The Hell it wasn't! For Tony this was about as personal as it could get and somebody was going to pay. With a speed and ferousity Zane hann't been prepared for, Tony knocked the gun upwards, away from his hand; latching onto the wrist even as the weapon went off.

The overhead light sparked and began to strobe, casting the room into an eerie slow motion like effect as the two men struggled for control. Again and again the gun went off, and it quickly became clear that the weapon was Zane's only defence; obviously, like Tony, he was more military scientist that fighter. The difference was that Tony was a much larger man, not to mention younger, angry, and in better shape.

They grappled furiously, a flurry of quick movement made to seem oddly disconnected by the flickering lights. A vicious headbutt ended put an abrupt end to things, and Zane found himself looking up, past the barrel of his own gun, at the enraged face before him.

"Pull the trigger," Zane taunted as he wiped at the blood pouring from his nose. "You're going to disappoint me if you don't. You're a killer, Tony, you can't do anything else. Go on. Do it," he challenge, his face twisting into a bloody smile. "Get it off your chest. Like with your wife and kid."

Tony was only too happy to oblige and squeezed the trigger…

Click.

…And stared in disbelief at the empty gun.

"You see, you wanted to do it," Zane told him, the smirk never leaving his face as he stood up and pulled out a second gun. "You're a success Tony. Thanks for all the help."

As Zane started to pull the trigger, Tony closed his eyes. His last thought was that Jessica and Xander would never know just how sorry he was. Or how much he really did love them.


	23. Puppet Without Strings

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

* * *

Notes: A little something I wrote a week or so back in anticipation for today's release of 'Heavy Rain' and forgotten on my hard drive (oops). It's essentially my version of the opening scene from Quantic Dreams previous gaming venture 'Fahrenheit' (Indigo Prophecy in North America) with Xander in the main role.

It's a great cinematic gaming experience, despite the somewhat odd and sudden plot turns it takes in the last third or so. A lot of people didn't like them, but, personally, I didn't mind most of them, even if I would have preferred there have been more buildup rather then a sudden shift in story and tone.

* * *

**(BtVS/Fahrenheit {Indigo Prophecy NA})**

**Puppet Without Strings**

**

* * *

**

Xander sat in the bathroom stall and stared ahead blankly as he carved strange symbols into his wrists. He didn't flinch as the knife cut into his skin; the movement of his hands the only sign of life at all.

A man started whistling outside the stall, but Xander paid it no heed. Then a raven cawed outside the window and Xander stood and opened the door. He made his way forward in jerky, exaggerated motions like a puppet on strings.

The small balding man at the urinal didn't seem to notice anything as he whistled away and did his business. It wasn't until Xander's shadow fell over him that the man turned his head.

With eyes wide in fear the man started to scream, but it only came out as a bloody gurgle as the knife came down. Again and again Xander plunged the knife into the man, following him to the ground. Long after the point of death Xander raised the blood-coated blade up for yet another strike only for the raven to caw again.

In an instant Xander's eyes cleared and he looked around confusedly. It was a long moment before he took in the mutilated body below him and shot up startled to his feet. Then he noticed the bloody knife held tightly in his crimson stained hand and the gashes in his wrists.

He dropped the knife like it burnt and continued to stare at his hands as his mind worked to process all of this.

What had happened?

What had he done?

Did he really kill that man?

He didn't have a clue. The last thing Xander remembered was enjoying his burger and fries out in the diner. A diner full of people who could have seen both the man and him come back here… including the cop by the door.

Oh hell, this was bad. He was in some serious trouble here.

Xander didn't know what was going on, but he did know he would have to get out of here to figure it out. What the hell was he going to do?


	24. Why the Tall Windows?

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: This has been sitting forgotten on my hard drive since before 'Revenge of  
the Fallen' came out in theatres. Better late then never right?

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**(BtVS/Transformers[2007[)**

**Why the Tall Windows?**

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After over a decade of fighting the supernatural Xander didn't think there was anything left that could shock him. Sure he expected the occasional surprise, but he figured there wasn't anything left that could elicit the world shaking, mind numbing shock of the truly unexpected.

He was wrong. Very, very, wrong.

At least he wasn't the only one. Giles was too shocked to even mutter an 'oh dear' or even polish his glasses.

It was supposed to be a cakewalk. The two of them were just attending a meeting with the Council's various government contacts. Nothing too serious, no impending doom on the horizon; it was just to touch base and keep the lines of communication open between everyone.

The job didn't even really call for two Senior Council members. In truth, both men had been drowning in estrogen at their respective branches and jumped at the chance to get away and catch up with each other.

Xander had been getting so desperate to talk to another guy that he had actually been considering hanging out with Andrew, and he wasn't sure that qualified.

The two had figured that they could get the conference out of the way quick and just enjoy the rest of their weekend in Mission City. Naturally the city turned into a war zone as the military faced off with honest to God giant robots; the two of them caught on the streets in the middle of it all with panic and explosions all around them.

Even with everything they had seen and done giant robots were a bit outside their realm of expertise, but the best course of action seemed clear: get out of the line of fire and figure out what to do about this mess. That was easier said than done though. Outside the main battle area was just as dangerous as being in it, the panicked people being just as likely to trample them as they were to be caught in a stray explosion.

Case in point, Xander had just pushed Giles out of the way of an out of control car. The teenager running down the street with the strange metal box hadn't been so lucky. Xander rushed back into the road and drug the kid off. A scream caused him to look up at the car just in time to see the steering wheel come to life and attack the girls inside as they scrambled out the doors and locked the killer wheel inside.

Okay, that was a new one.

Xander pushed that thought aside and concentrated on the dark haired teenager he had just pulled into the relative safety of a building's entrance alcove. His eyes were scrunched closed in pain and he still clutched the box tightly. The tip of a bone poked through the jeans covering his right shin

"I need to—AH!" the kid screamed as he tried to stand and promptly fell back.

"Easy," Giles told him soothingly, but the boy brushed him aside.

"No! I need to get the Cube to the building!"

Xander could just hear the capital letter there. The Cube was obviously an artifact of some kind or another. Namely the dangerous kind he was betting. His luck couldn't have it be the peace and love kind. "Which building?"

"That one," the teen told him through pain, ground his teeth and pointed at a large building topped with statues. Then he shook one of the hands wrapped around the Cube and Xander noticed something else clutched in it. "Smoke for the helicopter."

"Crap," Xander muttered under his breath as he thought about what he had already impulsively planned to do. He gave Giles a meaningful look and said, "Stay safe." Then he yanked the Cube and signal from the boy's hands and took of running, ignoring the teenager's pain and surprise filled voice as he tried to follow him.

Xander was good at running. He may not have been a star athlete back in school, but after learning about demons he could probably have held his own in track. He had figured that if he couldn't keep up with most of them in strength he was damn well going to be able to outrun the things trying to eat him.

So it was with long trained skill that Xander raced through the streets of Mission City dodging cars, people, debris and explosions getting ever closer to his goal.

He hit the door at full sprint, barely slowing to push it open. The lobby was wide open and several stories tall and obviously under construction. The only real notice Xander took of that was to jump over the scattered building materials as he made a beeline for the stairwell in the back. He was halfway up it when he heard glass shatter and the crunch of metal digging into concrete.

Xander cursed his luck. The military guys just had to pick the one building with windows large enough for the scary giant robot to walk through!

He redoubled his pace and emerged onto the roof out of breath but still in one piece.

The helicopter must have already been nearby because it was hovering at the edge of the roof almost as soon as he sent up the white signal smoke. Xander was just about to hand the Cube to the soldier at the side door when he saw it. Another of the giant robots stood several rooftops away

"Look out!" Xander yelled as he dove to the side, but his warning came too late. He could feel the heat on his skin and the bite of shrapnel digging into his shoulder as the helicopter exploded, impacted the side of the building, and tumbled to the ground below.

Before Xander could even pull the jagged metal from his flesh a large metallic hand burst through the rooftop showering him in bits of stone and dust. Apparently scary robot guy could walk through more than just windows!

Again Xander cursed his luck, in English as well as several more ancient languages (Giles would be so proud). There was nowhere to go from here. The other buildings were too far to jump and the robot was emerging between him and the stairwell door. Lacking a better option, Xander ran to the far end and climbed onto the ledge, hiding himself behind one of the angel statues.

"I know you're there boy," the robot taunted once it pulled itself all the way up. It proved the point when the statue next to his was blown into fine dust.

"Tell me, is it fear or courage that drives you Fleshling?"

"A little of both really!" Xander called back, positioning himself further behind the statue as the robot rounded on him. Not that it would provide all that much protection, but something was better than nothing.

"Give me the Cube," the robot demanded, blowing away a chunk of the ledge beside him. "And maybe I'll keep you alive as a pet."

"Sorry, I'm flattered but I prefer to keep it in my own species!"

The robot fired again and the ledge next to Xander's other side exploded. A stray piece of concrete knocked his head back and cut a bloody gash in his scalp. Worse still, he lost his grip on the statue and tumbled over the edge.

Xander thought that this was it. Unless he spontaneously learned to fly there was no getting through this one. He didn't gasp in pain or scream in terror though. He stayed silent and closed his eyes as he fell through the open air and figured he was taking his imminent death rather well.

Then, almost as soon as it began, his fall came to an abrupt stop. Not a splat, street pizza sudden stop, but more of a 'hey why didn't I go splat' type of stop.

Opening his eye Xander saw that another giant robot (and just how many were hiding around here, really?), this one predominantly red and blue, had spread its body in the gap between the buildings and caught him. As it just saved his life Xander figured he could classify it as a good giant robot.

"I've got you," it told him.

"Uh… thanks." Honestly, what do you say to a robot?

"Prime!"

Both Xander and the robot looked up to see the evil robot aiming at them. Prime dropped, tucking into a roll as it hit the street with Xander along for the ride. It was a miracle he had managed to hold onto the Cube.

The other robot wasn't deterred in the least. It fired a constant barrage as it dropped from the rooftop. Somehow Prime managed to dodge the worst of it and shielded Xander from what he couldn't.

It could only last for so long.

A shot hit Prime square in the shoulder, jarring his arm and sending Xander tumbling to the street below. It wasn't nearly as far to fall as the roof, but it had happened so fast Xander didn't have any semblance of a chance to try twist into a position that would cause the least damage.

Xander impacted the ground chest first still cradling the Cube to his front. A surge of bluish energy swept through the street.

Now Xander screamed.

All the combatants, both from this battle and those nearby, could only stop and stare as Xander flipped over onto his back. His face was contorted in agony and his body dancing in convulsions of electric shock. Bolts of energy arced off the Cube for a quarter mile in every direction. The spot where the Cube met Xander's chest shone so bright it was almost too much to look at with the naked eye.

Slowly the Cube began to sink, merging into the one-eyed man screaming in agony on the ground.

After what seemed like an eternity the glowing and energy ceased and the Cube was gone. Then Xander Harris, Scooby, Zeppo, The-One-Who-Sees, and now Human All Spark, fell into merciful unconsciousness.


	25. Pretty Damn Likely

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: I recently purchased the Uncharted games and couldn't help but do a  
little ficlet. For those wondering this takes place after the opening chapters  
of the first game but before Nate and Elena fly to the island.

**0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0**

**(BtVS/Uncharted: Drake's Fortune)**

**Pretty Damn Likely**

**0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0**

Xander nearly groaned out loud as he saw the dark haired man enter the cantina and make a beeline for his table. Not that he wasn't happy to see him, they were friends after all; it was just that wherever Nathan Drake went trouble seemed to follow. And his insurance premiums skyrocketed.

He had met Nate on one of his many adventures since leaving Sunnydale after high school and pulled him out of a tight spot. They'd been friends ever since.

It was funny to Xander that what the gang tried to do on purpose their senior year of high school they did completely by accident in college. They pushed him away. Or rather, they grew apart and he was just as much to blame for it as they were.

More and more throughout the year their lives seemed to diverge in different directions until it seemed like the only time they saw each other was when there was a supernatural threat on the horizon. Eventually even that wasn't enough. They were still friends, but the closeness they once shared was gone.

After months of dead end, minimum wage jobs he hated and living in his parents basement Xander had simply had enough. He wasn't happy with his life anymore and something needed to change.

So he left to try and find something worthwhile for his life. He had always planned on moving back once he figured things out and got his head on straight again. Then he made it to Boston.

Some wannabe Big Bad had found a thingamajig that could open a portal to some random hell dimension. After dealing with things he had a thought: why wait for the bad guy to find the dangerous relic of mass destruction?

Thus his career in treasure hunting was born, both mystical and mundane.

As it turned out he was pretty good at it. Now all those books on ancient history he had to sift through during research sessions were coming in handy and he had learnt enough languages to make Giles proud. And probably hand him a pile of books on others he'd suggest he learn.

"So Xander," Nate said as he sat down at the table without waiting for an invite. "You ever replace that plane?"

At least he was getting right to the point today. Something big must be going on. Still, Xander couldn't help but raise a meaningful eyebrow and reply, "You mean the one you blew up?"

"I didn't blow up your plane!" Nate cried indignantly. "The guys chasing me did so I couldn't escape in it."

"And my boat," Xander asked

"Well, I had a good reason for—" but Xander didn't' let him finish.

"What about my jeep?"

"Ok, I get the point," Nate grumbled, his eyes shifting side to side for a moment before meeting Xander's and repeating slowly, "Do. You. Have. A. Plane?"

"Yes."

"So, are you going to help me out or what?"

"Sure," Xander told him. He'd planned on helping Nate out with whatever was going down as soon as he saw the look on his face coming through the door. That didn't mean he couldn't give his friend a hard time. "But I'm coming with you." Then he thought about it and added, "And if this plane gets blown up it's coming out of your cut."

"What are the odds of that happening again?" Nate asked as he flagged the waitress down.

Xander just gave him a pointed look. "With the two of us in one place?"

"Pretty damn likely," they finished together.


	26. A Matter of Family

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: I was doing some spring cleaning and found some old He-Man action figures tucked away in a box and got a little nostalgic.

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**(BtVS/He-Man [80's])**

**A Matter of Family**

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It was dark in this place, but not really. It wasn't so much that it was dark as a complete absence of light, of anything really. Just a vast empty void for as far as the eye could see. That wasn't to say he was blind here though. If the man in front of him was any indication then a light that seemed to touch only him radiated around him and completely illuminated his body. The lack of shadows that caused would add an eerie undefined look to his features, just as it did for the man.

"So, let me get this straight," Xander started, eyeing the man in the bowler hat and clothes so hideous even he wouldn't think of wearing them. "My mother, who is supposed to be dead, is alive."

Xander paused, waiting for the man to confirm the start of his recap for the story he had just been told. He had always known that Jessica wasn't his real mother; nobody had ever made a secret of it. His birth mother had been an astronaut whose shuttle had mysteriously vanished when he was barely two years old, and was never heard from again.

His father had quickly remarried, thinking that he would need a positive female influence growing up. He chose poorly and Jessica dragged him into the gutter with her.

As a kid Xander had always dreamt that his mother had somehow survived the strange storm in space that had supposedly tore her shuttle apart. He'd dreamt dreams of adventures and mysteries at distant stars; dreams where she was safe and happy and they would be together again.

But those were just dreams and he had long since put such fantasies behind him. This, this was very real.

After a moment the man nodded and Xander went on. "Not only is she alive, but she's living on an alien planet, where there just happens to be a human population, and living as a queen at that."

The man nodded again.

"My mother remarried and had a couple more kids. Twins. My half brother and sister are in someway champions of this Eternia…" Xander hesitated at the name and continued more confidently when the man gestured that he got it right. "And Etheria, but you won't tell me the details."

"Not my secret to go blabbing, kid," the man broke in.

Xander nodded and made a dismissive motion with his hands. "Fair enough. I get that. I don't like it, but I get it. What I don't get is where I fit into all this."

"What, you don't want to meet your family?"

"Of course I do!" Xander said sharply. "You people just don't strike me as the happy family reunion type."

"I told you, kid," the man pointed out. "Your brother and sister are up against some major league evil, with a bigger baddie on the way. They need you. They just don't know it yet."

"And, of course, you're not going to give me any details on this bigger bad either."

The man shrugged. "Can't tell you what I don't know. The bosses won't even give me the details on that one."

"Suppose that would be too easy."

"C'mon kid, let's cut the crap," the man said as he waved his hand and a doorway of piercing light appeared a few feet away from the pair. "We both know you've already made up your mind to go."

"True enough," Xander said with a rather impressive imitation of the other man's dismissive shrug. "No time like the present I guess."

"When you get to Eternia you'll want to talk with the dragons."

"Dragons?" Xander asked.

"Trust me."

"Okaaaay," Xander drawled out, clearly unsure whether to take up that little piece of advice. Without putting it off any longer Xander started for the portal.

"Wait," the man called out as Xander was just about to step through. "Take this with you."

Xander turned just in time to catch something being thrown at him. Looking down at the object in his hands Xander blinked owlishly a few times before looking back up at the man, idly wondering where he had been hiding this. "A shovel?" he asked.

The man just grinned, rather evilly in Xander's opinion. "Your sister's got a thing going on with a pirate. Thought it might come in handy."

Then Xander had a grin on his face that put the man's right to shame. "You know Whistler, despite what Buffy and Angel say about you, you're alright."

"Thanks, kid," Whistler said absently as he looked down fumbling with the sleeves of his jacket. Then he thought about it. "Wait… what do they say about me?" he asked looking up only to find himself alone. "Kid? Kid…"


	27. Pushing Towards Tomorrow

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: I watched 'Push' again the other night and this idea just refused to leave until I wrote it down.

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**(BtVS/Firefly/Push)**

**Pushing Towards Tomorrow**

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There have always been the odd person born with power throughout human history, but it wasn't until the Second World War that psychics as we know them today really came to be. Hitler took a great interest in psychic warfare back then. He never got to see those experiments come to fruition, though the first of the 'modern' psychics was born from them.

After the war other governments followed suit and started their own research into identifying, training, and improving psychics. Off the books of course. Most of these programs were simply referred to as Divisions, if they even had a name at all. It's ironic, really, that the States and China's respective programs were such bitter rivals only for the twos superpowers to merge in the exodus from Earth.

Both were arguably the two most powerful Divisions on the planet back in the day. Both with a wide range of psychics at there disposal; voluntary or not.

Pusher can 'push' thoughts into someone else's head making them believe or do whatever they want; Readers can read the thoughts of another person; Movers can move objects with their minds; Watchers see glimpses of the future; Sniffers can gleam the past from objects; the list goes on and on.

It didn't really matter what your power was or what country you were in there was usually only two choices for a psychic. Join Division or die. Some choice huh?

I guess that's one good thing that came out of the Exodus. When it came time for humanity to leave Earth-That-Was most of the information on psychics was lost or destroyed in the confusion and panic. And for a while at least we got to taste true freedom.

It must have been nice. I wouldn't know.

Now it's five hundred years later and the Alliance has a Division of its own, only they call it The Academy. Collecting the best and brightest, anyone who even shows a modicum of potential. Mostly children, and mostly those who have no idea what they really are.

All in the name of research. The same old experiments, the same old reasoning. It's all about the weapons.

Who am I? Damned if I know to be honest. I go by the name Xander Harris, but I honestly don't know if that's my real name. It's as good a name as any other I suppose.

All of us here are put through a custom battery of experiments. Mine messes with my sense of identity pretty good. Sometimes the dream world they have me live through seems more real than the one out here.

It's a world of old and of magic and monsters. I'm pretty sure the images of the vampires and human like demons are taken from files on the Browncoats, the 'enemy' we're being prepared for in a war that is already over.

I'm a Mover here, but in that world I'm powerless among the powerful. There's probably some deep psychological reasoning behind it. A subconscious impression telling me that in this world they are the strong and I should obey. If that's the case then it's not working. Hell, for all I know they just do it for kicks.

It just doesn't matter. I doubt it's event he first scenario they've made me live through. It's just the most recent and the most vivid. There are fragments of others, but they're too fluid and I can't grasp the memories. Sometimes I wonder which is the real me. Sometimes I wonder if the real me is even left in here.

But I can take the pulling of my mind in ten different directions; I can take the pain; both the psychological and the more physical pains the experiments rack through my body. I have to. At eighteen I'm the oldest and I have to be strong for the others.

Most I don't see very often. We only pass in the hallways from one torturous experiment to the next. There is a girl though in the cell next to mine that I watch over as best I can.

Her name is River, a reader who never even knew of her talent before coming to The Academy. I don't know exactly what they are doing to her but I can imagine. None of it is pretty, that's for sure. Every day she's brought back to her cell a little less lucid than the day before. Every night I whisper sweet lies to give her hope and anchor her as best I can. There are microphones of course, but with a Reader I hardly have to whisper with my words.

It's a risk on my part, but I can't _not_ try to help her. That I know just isn't me. If they ever found out I'd be in for a heap of trouble. I'm supposed to be too drugged up and broken to think of consoling others or using my power.

My mind may be confused but it's not broken. Their drugs may be strong but my body has grown used to it and adjusts. I could have broken myself out of here by now no problem, but only myself. There's no way I could just abandon the others to these butchers. So I wait and I plan.

And then I curse. Internally of course.

I don't blame River's brother, not really. He couldn't know that I had been planning our escape for months. He couldn't know that in a few days I was going to get _everyone_ out. He's just trying to save and protect his sister and I can hardly blame him for that.

It still screws everything up. Now The Academy will change protocols and tighten security and all my careful planning will be for nothing. They're on alert now as it is and I know I won't be able to get everyone out anymore, but I'll have to risk it.

If nothing else River's brother just proved that The Academy's Watchers don't see everything; or at least don't tell them everything. At least a few of them know I'm planning something. I've passed them in the corridors and seen the knowing look in their eyes and wondered. Had they told them what they saw? If they kept it to themselves is it because they know I fail anyways, or that I'll take them with me when I go?

Whatever, I can't think about this right now. The alarms aren't blaring anymore, but everyone is on alert and jumpy still and it's now or never, while they're still confused.

I raise my hand and blow the door off my cell right into the face of a startled guard.


	28. Beyond the Wall

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: Just something I wrote up after watching the movie 'Stardust' the other day. One of the rare occasions that I enjoyed the movie version more than the book. Fans of both will notice the influence of both though. Mainly in Una, who had her appearance taken from the books but her meeting with Tony from the movie.

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**(BtVS/Stardust)**

**Beyond the Wall**

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Anthony Harris wasn't a bad young man. A little mischievous, or perhaps, more accurately, restless, but certainly not bad. At barely nineteen he was a young dreamer craving adventure. If he had known he lived on a Hellmouth, that every time he ventured from his home at night was an act of risk and danger and adventure of the unknown sort, perhaps this story would have reached an ending before a beginning was found.

This, for better or worse, was something Tony was ignorant of, so our story continues. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. To understand what is to come one must first understand what has already come to pass.

Since time unmemorable, long before the town that would eventually be known as Sunnydale came to be, there existed a stone wall running as far as the eye could see from one way to the next. It's origins, as such things tend to be, are mysterious and lost to time, but its power, well even the first to settle the land could feel that. Fore this simple stone wall represents the barrier between this world and another. A world of magic and myth; the greatest of heroes and the most horrifying of monsters. A world forever apart from our own.

Or so it was once thought at least.

One day, long past the time when the most long lived witness could bare tell, a crack appeared in the stone and then a portion of the wall fell away. The gap left in its place was large enough for two of the broadest of men to pass through shoulder to shoulder with room to spare. And pass through people did. From both sides, though few stayed in their respective strange lands.

Soon though, a tradition was started. Once every nine years, starting long before this land would be _discovered_ and settled, people would travel in pilgrimage to the wall. For one day and one night both sides would set up a market for trade, exchanging goods and knowledge not found in the other world.

Then, after many years of peaceful trade, a sorcerer came and changed everything. Through dark pacts with powerful evils best not described, lest you draw their attention, the land was tainted with darkness. The taint grew to such heights that a powerful Hellmouth miles away and under the ocean closed, only to open again upon land, not far from the wall itself. Demons and the corrupt flocked to the newly accessible portal.

The cunning sorcerer then built atop this Hellmouth a town, deceptively bright and welcoming and peaceful. A trap for those desperate or courageous enough to seek a better life. All in preparation for the day his pact would come to fruition and a great and terrible power would be his.

From the day this man arrived there would be no more markets nor trade nor peace.

But, as we said, young Tony knew none of this and he approached the gap in the wall at a determined pace early one evening. His thoughts were only on the adventure of it all, of old and vague stories of another world, strange and unknown. Tales he would soon discover were not merely the stories he believed them to be.

There was a guard at the gap in the wall, as there always was. Logically Tony thought that there were many working in shifts, though he could not recall any others beyond the ancient looking man before him. To Tony the fact that such an old man could be considered a guard was just more proof that the tales were not real. What could an old man truly guard against anyway? Tony was indeed showing his ignorance this night.

"Anthony, is that you?" the guard asked squinting in the light of his old fashioned lantern.

Tony grinned and waved as he came to stand before him. "Hi Mr. Samuels, nice night isn't it?"

"You shouldn't be all the way out here this late. This is a dangerous place at night," Mr. Samuels said. "What brings you out here anyway?"

"I'm going through the wall," Tony said with all the mislaid surety of youth. To be fair, Tony did have reason beyond simply youth for his confidence. Arthur Samuels had been close with the Harris family since long before Tony could remember. He had even heard tales of Arthur and his grandfather, though he could not remember any in detail.

"There's danger beyond this wall, boy." It was a line Tony had heard many times and very nearly rolled his eyes at the predictability of it.

"You know what I see beyond that wall?" Tony asked, not waiting for an answer. "More trees. No dangers, no monsters, just trees."

"This wall has been guarded since the foundation of this town. In all that time nothing and no one has passed through. That's not about to change now son."

"I could simply climb the wall," Tony pointed out.

Mr. Samuels pointedly raised an bushy eyebrow at the youth. "Have you ever tried?" he asked with amusement Tony didn't understand. "Go home Anthony. There is nothing for you out here."

"Alright Mr. Samuels," Tony said as he turned away. "You're right. I wasn't thinking."

Arthur patted the young man on his back and said, "Go on son. I'm sure your pretty young Jessica would love to see you."

But Tony was not listening. The moment he had the old guard distracted he turned back to the wall and ran. There was no way Mr. Samuels could catch him now if he did have some trick up his sleeve for trespassers. Tony had been a star athlete in high school and thought there was no way that an old man could catch him at a full sprint.

What Tony didn't know was that Arthur Samuels could easily have stopped him. To do so would have risked injury to the boy, and that was something Arthur could not bring himself to do. His friendship with the Harris family was the last link he had to a life he had long since given up.

Another choice that, had it gone different, would have brought this story to a rather abrupt end.

When Tony crossed through the gap in the wall he came across a dense forest of what seemed like, at least to Tony's limited experience in such things, impossibly tall trees. This was odd since the trees went far higher than the wall itself and Tony couldn't recall ever having seen a forest on the other side.

Regardless he was determined to see his adventure through and pressed on through the trees. Pushing his way through dense foliage he eventually came to a mostly overgrown trail. As he followed the path to wherever it may lead Tony allowed his mind to wonder to his beautiful Jessica LaVelle.

Tony still couldn't believe she had agreed to be his wife. Beautiful, smart, and with a mischievous streak almost as large as his, Jessica was his perfect match and Tony knew it. It was just that with the wedding fast approaching, a steady nine to five he started Monday at his uncle's car lot, and talk of starting a family of their own, Tony wanted at least one more adventure before settling down.

He hadn't expected to find a mysterious forest on the other side of the wall. Tony had only chose to cross it for the thrill of doing what nobody else had and not out of any belief in the rumours he barely paid any attention to.

If Tony had not been expecting the forest then what he found when he came out the other side was something he was completely unprepared for. To his credit, young Tony did not let that shock stop him and made his way down a small hill toward an eclectic array of tents, wagons, and stone and wooden buildings with barely a pause in his step.

It was a market town, but unlike anything Tony had ever seen before – or truly, had been seen since the days the sorcerer had first built his town. To Tony it seemed almost like some sort of Renaissance fair, but closer to something out of one of those fantasy novels his brother Rory likes to read.

Everywhere he looked people were peddling their wares. Most seemed innocent enough, like simple clothes or spices. He'd thought the baskets were normal too, until he saw the seller stick his entire arm inside a basket that should not have went beyond his wrist.

Things only got stranger from there for young Tony. There were animals of every sort for sale, some Tony couldn't even begin to describe, like some creature about the size of a small dog that resembled a two head elephant. Further on he came to a stall filled with small crystal figurines that were incredible lifelike in their detail. A crystal cat caught his eye as he browsed the wares. Jessica always had a thing for cats. Tony reached out to pick it up when the figure suddenly came to life and started rubbing against his outstretched fingers, purring the whole time.

Surprised Tony pulled his hand back and laughed before moving on and stared in wonder at the strange sights he never would have dared dream of before this night. He made it through the entire market and reached the outskirts on the other side when he came across a lone yellow wagon sitting a ways from the rest.

Now on a normal day even our young Tony would have wondered why such an inviting wagon was set apart from the rest, but this day was anything but normal. Perhaps it was the call of one last adventure; Perhaps it had something to do with that strange smelling blue smoke spilling thickly from the tent next to the figurine seller; Perhaps it was simply the surrealism of it all, the dreamlike haze of the first encounter with the unknown.

Regardless of what it was, Tony was drawn to the wagon and thus another cog in the machine of fate turned.

Tony found a small stand next to the wagon that was covered in flowers, but not of the normal sort. These were flowers made of fine crystal and so intricately detailed he could have sworn they were grown rather than blown to shape. Jessica would love them.

Then there was a rustle of fabric and all thoughts of his beloved Jessica fled from Tony's mind. Indeed, thoughts of most anything left him. All he could focus on was the seductive sway of feminine hips as they approached. As they stopped before him Tony's eyes flitted up to the woman's face only for a casual shrug to send the shawl off the woman's shoulders and Tony's eyes followed it down, the falling piece of fabric somehow emphasizing every curve beneath the long green dress.

"See anything that you like?" a playful voice asked and Tony's gaze flew up to meet a pair of deep violet eyes that danced with amusement that matched her playful grin. Curling black locks hung several inches past her shoulders, nearly hiding the gently slanted catlike ears dusted with a fine dark fur.

Such an obviously abnormal trait should have startled him. Given his inexperience with such things, fear or repulsion would not have been unexpected. He felt neither. They were, in his opinion, somewhat cute. It only made her seem more beautiful, exotic in a way.

"Umm, definitely," Tony said without thinking. His eyes widened when she smiled and laughed, but not unkindly. He started to babble on, though the slight reddening of her cheeks did not go completely unnoticed by him. "I mean- What I me- What I meant was 'how much for this one?' The blue ones?"

"They might be the colour of you hair, or they might be all of your memories before you were three. I can check if you like?" She smiled as she spoke and shook her head at him. "Anyway, you shouldn't buy the blue belles." She slowly reached down and plucked a small white flower from the dirt they were all set in and held it out to him. "Buy this one instead. A snowdrop. It will bring you luck."

Unsure if the prices she had given were playful, truth, or even possible, Tony asked, "But, what does that cost?"

"This one," she said seriously. "This one costs a kiss."

Then she reached across and tucked the snowdrop in his pocket. With enchanting violet eyes closed she tilted her head and tapped her cheek. Tony eagerly leaned forward to meet her and just as his lips grazed her cheek she turned and Tony met her own. The kiss was slow and sweet and full of promise.

Lost in the kiss Tony moved to follow as she pulled back, but a hand on his chest stopped him and Tony opened eyes he hadn't even realized he had closed. The smile she gave him managed to be both demure and oh so wicked at the same time as she beckoned him with finger to follow.

He was all too eager to comply and by the time he had rounded the stand she was already climbing the wagon's steps. A glint of silver halted his steps and he followed the path of a slender silver chain running from the wagon to the enchanting woman's ankle.

Turning she caught his gaze and smiled sadly. "I'm a princess, tricked into being a witch's slave. Will you liberate me?"

Without hesitating Tony bent and gathered a bundle of chain in his hands. It wasn't too strong. Fairly weak material really. So Tony pulled out his pocket knife and easily cut through a couple layers of the chain only to watch in amazement as the cut ends twisted of their own accord and reattached even as a small length remain separate in his hands.

"It's an enchanted chain. I'll only be free when she dies. Sorry."

Why she was apologizing to him Tony didn't know, she was the one in slavery after all, but the pained look he sent her told her he sympathized. "If I can't free you, then what do you want with me?

And just like that the sadness was again replaced with that wicked small and there was a fire behind her violet eyes as she reached for him. Without a word Tony took her hand and allowed her to pull him inside. She carefully checked all directions before closing the door and taking him into her arms. Any sounds of passion that escaped the wagon that night were covered by the bustle of the market town.

All too soon morning came and Tony crossed back through the gap in the wall. The old guard was still there but made no move to stop him or even speak. All he did was rake Tony with a disapproving gaze as he passed.

Normally Tony would have gone to his friends to brag how he, as far as he knew, was the only one to have crossed the wall. But Tony could not bring himself to do that this time. Instead he headed for home, more certain than ever in his love for Jessica and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He had had his wild, fantastic adventure and that was enough to last him a lifetime. He would never betray her again.

And if he sometimes dreamt of violet eyes, well, that would be his secret.

Or so Tony had thought at least, but fate has a way of interfering with the best of plans.

In the months following his encounter with the woman from beyond the wall things had gone remarkably well for Tony. His wedding had been beautiful, everything Jessica had dreamt it to be and they started their lives together with an easy, loving companionship born of years of friendship before becoming lovers. He had taken to his job as a salesman surprisingly well and earned himself several large commissions in a short time, enough for a down payment on that house Jessica liked. Then came the night Jessica told him she was pregnant. He had never been happier in his life.

And as he left his glowing wife to answer the banging at the front door the smile never left his face. Then he opened it.

Mr. Samuels stood in the doorway, a disappointed look on his face as he held out a basket for Tony to take, a baby sleeping peacefully inside.

"The Mayor's office is handling the legalities and paperwork," Mr. Samuels assured. "Everything will be finished by morning."

Tony opened his mouth to speak but the older man spoke up first. "He was found at the gap. The note explains everything." With that Mr. Samuels turned and started to walk away before pausing. "His name is Alexander."

And this, my friends, this is where our story truly begins.


	29. Nightmares

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: In anticipation of next week's release of 'Star Wars: The Force Unleashed II' I wrote a quick little one-shot. It's set in the same universe as my 'Apprenticeship' ficlet, but could be read as a stand-alone.

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**(BtVS/Star Wars)**

**Nightmares**

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She's rushing up the slope of grass, her stride quick and determined despite the nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her to turn back. Finally, after what feels like hours, she reaches the top. A dark haired girl she feels she should know comes to a stop beside her huffing and puffing but Buffy ignores her.

She stares unbelieving at the once beautiful and pristine Kingman's Bluff. An ugly temple now rises up like a jagged scar upon the earth. Clumps of dirt and stone further mar the landscape as a dark figure sends streams of energy into the temple.

Buffy knows she should do something to stop this, that whatever this temple was intended for it wasn't goodwill for all, but all she can do is stand and stare. She's rooted to the spot and she doesn't know if it's magic or her own horror that's doing it.

This is something she never imagined she would see. Not in even her darkest and most secret of thoughts. Somewhere in that dark figure she just barely recognizes her best friend. A slick black has replaced Willow's once vibrant red hair, dark veins are seen clearly though unnaturally ivy skin, and twin pools of the deepest black cause her to shiver uncontrollably as she's briefly caught in their cold, dismissive glance.

Then suddenly there is a man standing between Willow and the temple with a sword of glowing red energy intercepting the magic and sending it to ground in the earth. He's tall, with dark hair wearing simple black pants and t-shirt and, like the girl at her side, Buffy feels she should know him but can't place a name.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity of struggle, the man grunts and forces the blade in an arc that sends the magic rebounding back to Willow. Her friend's expression fills with shock as the force of it knocks her back several feet and she falls to her knees gasping for the breath forcedly expelled from her lungs.

"Don't do this Willow," the man pleads, the sorrow in his voice nearly bring tears to Buffy's eyes. "Don't make me do this Willow. It isn't–"

"Me," Willow finishes mockingly as she catches her breath and rises to her feet. "You seen the dark and know this isn't what I really want. I'm better, stronger than this. Tara wouldn't want this. Is that what you were going to say, Xander?"

"Something like that."

"Then save your breath," Willow snarls. "And get out of my way."

The man, Xander apparently, just shakes his head resignedly, his calm expression betrayed only by the sadness in his eyes. Electricity starts to arc and crackle around the hand not holding the sword. "Last chance."

Willow raises her hand, a green pool of magic gathering in her palm, and laughs. "Magic versus Force. I've been wondering which is stronger."

With that she lets the magic flow from her and Xander reacts in the same instant by raising his hand and letting the lightning in his hand fly. The two forces clash with a resounding boom that Buffy is sure is shattering glass for miles around, and she and the dark haired girl are knocked from their feet.

For a moment the two opposing powers struggle for dominance before exploding in a blinding flash of light. From the brief display of power already shown a part of Buffy expects some sort of epic battle, but as the light fades she's met with a sight that chills her heart.

Xander is standing in front of Willow, the glowing red of his blade plunging through her chest. Willow's expression is one of disbelief as looks from the man before her to the blade. "It's you or the world, Willow," the man said softly as the energy of his blade disappeared and Willow slumped bonelessly to the ground. He caught her first and slowly lowered her to the earth, tenderly brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'm sorry."

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Buffy bolted upright in her bed, panting heavily as she wiped the sweat from her brow. If she hadn't know better she would have sworn that was a prophetic dream, but not like any she had ever had before. It must have been a run of the mill nightmare, and a strange one at that.

A strange dark haired girl she felt some sort of connection and protective instinct with? Willow going to the dark side and trying to destroy the world? A handsome man wielding a lightsaber?

One thing was for sure, she was never letting Jesse pick the snacks for movie night again.


	30. Soldiers Again

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Notes: Just wanted to play around with the all dialog format.

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**(BtVS/Universal Soldier)**

**Soldiers Again**

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"What do we have?"

"It looks like here is where they discovered what that bitch Walsh was really up to... Er... I mean–"

"It's alright Lieutenant, I've met the woman. Bitch is putting it politely. Now just give me the rundown. Who is that?"

"Xander Harris, recruited straight out of high school. Technically a civilian consultant, but works and trains heavily with the base's military personnel. His previous experience with hostile sub-terrestrials quickly made him a valuable resource to the Initiative Project. Even if he wasn't always popular."

"How so?"

"Evidently the higher ups actually listened when he said it was a bad idea to capture and experiment on HST's. It made for a greatly reduced pool of research subjects."

"Doubt Walsh appreciated that."

"Unlikely, Sir. He also physically restrained several squad members from terminating HST's stating: There are enough hostile demons in the world without pissing off the peaceful ones."

"Makes sense. Keep going."

"Well at this point of the tape we can see that Harris and his team have discovered what Walsh was doing in a surprisingly large section of the base she managed to keep hidden and off the blueprints."

"Her little pet Frankenstein's Monster."

"Yes, Sir. And Walsh is shot and killed while trying to activate the creature. The man arriving on scene in time to witness the event is one Captain Riley Finn."

"What's Harris doing with creature?"

"Loading it with explosives. You can see them hurry out and... there goes the cameras."

"A little excessive, but it got the job done I suppose. What next."

"As you can see from the footage in the hall, they decide to split into two teams to search the hidden section. One led by Harris and the other by Finn. They radioed in for backup of course."

"Obviously."

"It appears at this point Captain Finn had some sort of psychotic break. The exact cause is unknown. It is possible that Captain Finn was working with Walsh or that it was caused by exposure to the HST's or whatever that crap Walsh was slipping the soldiers is."

"But?"

"But, Sir?""

"I heard the unsaid 'but' in there, Lieutenant. What are you thinking."

"If I had to make an educated guess, I would say he was Walsh's backup plan. He seemed to be a favourite of the Doctor's. It's conceivable that he, probably unknowingly, had suggestions implanted for the possibility that Walsh failed in whatever she was planning on doing with that Frankenstein's Monster she was making."

"You fuck me, so I'll fuck you."

"Something like that, Sir."

"Just tell me what we actually know at this point."

"He opened all the cells, though fortunately with the reduced number of test subjects casualties from HST's was kept to a minimal. Unfortunately Captain Finn then proceeded to make his way through the facility killing anyone or anything he came across and, as you can see from the screen, taking... trophies."

"He's cutting their fucking ears off and making a necklace."

"Yes, Sir."

"Keep going."

"Well, by this point he's killed just about everyone that hasn't already run off at the first sign of shooting. Very few made it out before he locked down the facility. The pair he has on their knees now are two prisoners Walsh had managed to keep off the books. The boy is Daniel Osborne, a werewolf who has apparently gained limited control over his transformation. A subject of some fascination to the doctor."

"Threat level?"

"Minimal if you don't attack someone the wolf in him considers pack."

"The girl?"

"Anya Jenkins. Human turned Vengeance Demon turned human again. Another transformation to study. She's a minimal threat as a human, but a possible severe threat as a demon provided she has someone to make a wish. It should also be noted that both are acquaintances of Harris and, as the surprise on his face attests to, he didn't know they were here."

"Is Harris doing what I think he's doing?"

"If you think he's placing his weapon down before approaching and trying to talk Finn down, then yes he is."

"Not the most intelligent move."

"Psych eval puts Harris as having a personality traits lending themselves to extreme loyalty. He won't give up on a friend easily. We'll have to get a lip reader involved in the tape analysis to find out what they are saying though."

"The 'fucking traitors' Finn just growled is hard to miss."

"Sir?"

"This isn't you, Riley... etcetera, etcetera... Fight it... insert pointless calming drivel... Let me help you, Riley."

"Can't blame him for trying."

"Osborne's brains still decorated the hallway."

"And Harris tackles him."

"Should have gone for the gun behind him."

"All due respect, Sir, but he or the girl probably would have been shot before he'd gotten the weapon up if he had tried that. A quick forward spring-"

"Didn't give Finn a chance to move to the next target. Point taken. And he gets shot in the leg, but got the rifle out of Finn's hands and knocked the man down. Not too bad. Why isn't the Jenkins' girl running?"

"I imagine she's worried about Harris, but he yells for to run here and she moves like a bat out of hell."

"She's run pretty fast—Where the hell did Finn get grenades?"

"He raided the armoury."

"That's not a pretty way to go."

"No, Sir."

"Harris looks pissed now."

"Has to hurt standing on that leg. He used the rifle to pull himself up."

"Slows him down too much. Finn's pulled his sidearm."

"And they both start firing..."

"Mutual destruction. How... quaint."

"Sir?"

"Give me the room and a secure line, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Sir."

"And Lieutenant?"

"Sir?"

"Pack all the bodies in ice."

"Yes, Sir..."

"This is Colonel McNamara. You're in luck. I find myself with a base full of 'volunteers' for your Universal Soldier Program."


End file.
